


Finding Solace

by losiver



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at a Slow Burn, Kozume Kenma-centric, Love at First Sight, M/M, Pining, Pining Kozume Kenma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 53,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26058595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losiver/pseuds/losiver
Summary: Kenma didn't believe in love at first sight until he experienced it. It happened on a normal walk home from school when he wasn't looking where he was going, and he quite literally stumbled upon it. Now, a fluffy head of ginger hair and amber eyes are burnt into his memory, and nothing he does can push away the warm feeling that bubbles in his stomach at the thought of them.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 75
Kudos: 170





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, welcome to my KenHina fic. This chapter is short just so you can get a feel for it before the real fun begins! This will be different from the others that I've written, I'm trying something out! Criticism is graciously welcomed, thank you very much. I'm starting off this fic by pointing out this link- 
> 
> https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/
> 
> I'd like to advocate for different things going on in the world through this fic, so please, in the comments, tell me about things you'd like me to point out and link in these, or you can DM on Instagram @losifeaur ! I'm rather friendly, I don't bite. Also, if anyone can tell me how I make clickable links in this, that would be greatly appreciated.

Kenma hadn’t believed in love at first sight until he experienced it. It happened on a normal day. It was a sunny Wednesday in May, nothing special going on at all. He’d gone through the motions and by 6:35 pm, he was leaving his last class for the day. Relieved that he had no night classes, he let his mind relax and begin focusing on things other than school. He hiked his messenger bag up, putting the strap over his right shoulder as the bag rested on his hip, heavy with the items he’d shoved in it and began flooding out of the classroom with the rest of the students. 

He made it to the nearest exit out into the common area and took a path that led to the sidewalk into the main city. He watched the ground as he took his memorized route back to his apartment just off campus, focusing on stepping over cracks to occupy his mind. He wondered what game he should play when he gets home, and wondered what kind of food he would get.

He’d been taking an extra-long step over a crack when his long step sent him forward into someone. He walked directly into their side and sent them tumbling onto the sidewalk with a quiet ‘oof!’ He stopped in his tracks, preparing to utter a quick apology when his eyes widened at the figure he’d pushed down.

“That’s what you get, dumbass! Don’t just stop on the sidewalk!”

“I wanted McDonald’s!” The man sat himself up, looking past Kenma and addressing another man a few feet away before looking up at Kenma. Kenma felt his chest squeeze. “Sorry about that!” He apologized, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. The man has bright orange hair that stuck up and pointed various places and looked kind of messy. He had a light complexion and lacked freckles, despite the hair, and big light amber eyes that still seemed to be asking him for forgiveness, even though Kenma was the one at fault. He wore a carefree and happy smile on top of it all that never faltered as he stood himself up. He was about the same height as Kenma, give or take, and wore a sports jacket and basketball shorts that made Kenma believe he must have been an athlete, or just on a run. 

Realizing it was a good idea to answer, Kenma quietly muttered, “no.” His voice cracked and he imagined beating himself into the pavement right there and then.

The ginger man tilted his head, his smile twitching wider as he sized Kenma up. He looked like he was going to say something, but the other guy yelled again.

“Dumbass! We’re going to fucking miss it!”

The ginger smiled apologetically. “Sorry, again. Have a nice night!” He bid, and then jogged past Kenma with a friendly wave.

Kenma turned his head to watch him go, following a tall raven-haired male. They jogged together down the street, and he watched them until they disappeared around a building. And then Kenma could breathe. 

He put a hand to his chest and felt his heart hammering into it. He could hear the drumming, loud and clear, heating his face up further each knock it gave. His stomach was doing twists and acrobatic leaps, more intense than he’d ever felt.

Kenma took in a shaky breath in an attempt to compose himself. The ginger man had left him with a good feeling, a feeling that made him warm and made it hard to control a smile that curled its way across his lips. He remembered where he was- on a street in front of a bookstore and a few feet away from a McDonalds. His stomach growled, and the McDonalds was tempting, but he had left his wallet at home. He sighed and resigned himself to the fact he was getting no McDonalds that night, and began the route home again. Every few steps though, those lively amber eyes flashed through his mind and set another fire burning across his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So, I have more things to say. Here are potential triggers and things to just be aware of through the fic: 
> 
> Heavy swearing  
> Sex jokes  
> Drinking  
> Smoking  
> Sex  
> Homophobia  
> Mentions/Implied attempted rape
> 
> Despite all those triggers, this story will (hopefully) be mostly fluff and domestic kind of stuff! That's what I'm going for, at least.
> 
> Also, you can find me on Instagram @Losifeaur (can someone tell me to actually put links in so you can just click them?) and you can DM anytime with questions, directions about the aforementioned links or just comment them here!

“Kunmuu!” Bokuto cheered through a mouthful of pizza as the faux blond slipped through the door of the shared apartment. Said blond assumed it was supposed to be his name and nodded in their direction as he locked the door and kicked his shoes off. He slung his bag onto a hook with two other books and shuffled his way to the table where Bokuto and Akaashi sat eating. The former was shoving his face aggressively with a Meat Lover’s pizza as the latter politely ate chicken he had ordered and sipped on a glass of wine. 

“Hey, Ken, your pizza’s right here,” Akaashi let go of his chicken to raise one of the two boxes of pizza and pointed at a second box under it. Kenma took it with a quiet thanks and brought it to the kitchen. He gave himself two slices and ambled away to his room while Bokuto and Akaashi talked about their day.

His room wasn’t all that big, but it was well sized for the 3-person-holding-4-people apartment he lived in. He’d been lucky enough to score his own room like Akaashi while Bokuto and Kuroo shared. The downside to his room was the bathroom connected to it. It was good in some ways, but the fact it didn’t have a lock annoyed him. It was attached to the living room and occasionally he’d walk in on someone pissing, which wasn’t his favorite thing, but at least he wasn’t the one getting walked in on. 

Kenma eased onto his bed and used his remote to switch on the TV. The TV opened up to an episode of South Park, which was good enough, so Kenma leaned back and began watching as he ate his pizza. 

The episode ended and another began playing. It opened with the intro, and not even a minute after it ended, a picture of a ginger kid showed up and Kenma’s pizza nearly fell out of his mouth. He didn’t even care about the rather negative context, that ginger he’d seen on his way back home re-entered his mind and he felt his breath leave his lungs.

What was it about that guy? 

His presence had an irresistible pull that made Kenma long to know more about him. It wasn’t just his cute-handsome face, but the way he held himself. How he smiled with such ease, how he wasn’t shaken by the raven-haired man’s name-calling, how he was so forgiving. He was… interesting. Kenma found him interesting in an interaction that lasted less than a minute. 

Maybe he was sick and maybe he hallucinated that guy. That possibility sent a pang of sadness through him. He hoped the guy was real. 

Why?

Kenma buried the man deep in his mind as he bit down on his pizza, wishing he had an Mtn Dew to burn away his thoughts. It probably wouldn’t be good for the spike in heart rate he got every time he thought of that guy, but he wasn’t planning to be here long anyway. A little Mtn Dew to fuck up his heart wouldn’t be bad. 

He tried to focus on the episode and plan out what would be a good game to play tonight. Maybe he could get Akaashi to join him, he was the only other one who stayed up late in the house. But then again, he stayed up having mental breakdowns about tests and studying rather than playing games. 

Did that ginger guy play video games? 

Kenma physically smacked himself. Stop thinking about him! He looked fit, he was probably more of an athletic guy. He probably didn’t have time for video games! He probably went to the university, he was probably going for a good degree and maybe he was diving into a high maintenance path of study where he couldn’t just slack off. But if that were true, why would he be on a run? What would he be late to? 

Maybe this guy was a criminal. Maybe he was planning a heist and they were late to the heist get-together. Maybe they had just murdered a guy and they were running away to not be found. That was kind of hot though… no. No not hot. Maybe he raped a woman and was abandoning her down an alley! That’s not hot, not at all. Maybe that ginger guy was a dirty rapist and had Oikawa-level acting skills of hiding his emotions and intentions.

That wasn’t right though. His emotions were too raw. A criminal wouldn’t be pushed down and blame himself for wanting McDonald’s. A criminal wouldn’t look at him so sincerely. A criminal wouldn’t be so… so… sunny.

He looked slowly back up to the screen which displayed Kenny being dragged by a bunch of little ginger kids.

Maybe he could blame the sweet appeal for being ginger. He was ginger, he had no soul. But that didn’t convince him, he couldn’t trick himself, he felt something so strongly for the man that made him feel stupid. His heart raced quicker, his stomach tumbled and rolled and every color seemed just the tiniest bit brighter. 

He didn’t want to call it a crush. He’d had crushes and this didn’t feel like a crush. It was so much more, it was stronger than the feeling of a crush or just lust. Was this love at first sight? Did he even believe in it?

He finished off his pizza and dropped the small plate onto his bedside with the crust still on it. His face was burning up and he didn’t want to face the two in the kitchen and explain himself. It just wasn’t needed. 

He folded his legs and reached for the Xbox controller, turning on the Xbox with it. He flipped from normal TV to the next option and let the Xbox power up. He’d decided on a strategy game, something to occupy his mind rather than the ginger man. 

\---

The game didn’t quell the thoughts of the ginger man. Sleeping didn’t either- the ginger only wormed his way in as a prince or a peasant or a robot but each time he was so present. He ate- Ginger man. He read- ginger man. He walked- ginger man. He’d gotten so sick of the word ginger that he had been considering giving him a name. Tonight was no different. He dreamt that the ginger was an overlord, watching with a beaming expression as his followers worked for him, gifting them light and joy as they worked. He was one of those workers, admiring the God. 

“Oh kitten,” Kuroo’s voice penetrated the sky, confusing the redhead and turning around. Through the brilliant blue, a pale hand reached and plucked Kenma by the back of his neck and pulled him up. The others watched in horror, as did the God as Kenma was pulled like a cat out of their little realm. “Kitten!” 

Kenma blinked open and was greeted by a grinning face of Kuroo. Filled with disappointment that it wasn’t the god, Kenma reached forward and pressed his hand to Kuroo’s face, using him as a balance to push himself up in the bed. His bones ached, greeting him to the world with unpleasant ‘slept too late’ pains. 

“Good morning,” Kuroo greeted, unphased with the ‘warm’ welcome he was given. 

Kenma grunted in response, reaching up his shirt to scratch his chest. What time was it? The light filtering in through the window was far too great to be the early morning and there was no incessant chirping of morning birds.

“What?” He looked over to Kuroo, who’d straightened himself and was holding up a bag. Kenma squinted to see what it was, and when he finally made out the yellow M on the front, his stomach grumbled. His mouth watered at the new smell of McDonald’s he was aware of that he’d do his best to fan out later that day, but at the moment it was the best thing he’d ever smelt. He looked to Kuroo pleadingly.

Kuroo smirked, “Morning sunshine.” 

\-----

Kenma got himself out of bed quickly after that, his cracking bones be damned. Kuroo had brought the McDonalds and bribed him with getting up for the food. Off he went, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, and lazily combing his hair. He washed his face, started up some coffee for them before he noticed the time. 

12:57 pm. 

He cursed, taking the coffee and pouring it into two mugs. He’d missed two of his morning classes already and he had another one at 2:00 he could probably make it to. Akaashi would rip his balls off if he didn’t make it, given Kuroo didn’t first.

Kenma carried the mugs to the living room where Kuroo had set up their gourmet brunch, wondering how bad it would be to live without balls. 

“Thanks,” Kuroo said as he took the hot mug, hands dancing over it to the handle before placing it on the table with the McDonalds. Kenma held the mug tightly around, slightly relishing in the burning feeling, but also just trying to put the fear of God in Kuroo.

It was Friday, two days past the day that ginger twunk ruined his life. He used twunk carefully, unsure of the guy’s sexuality, but he figured it didn’t matter since it was in his head. He had the physique of a hunk and the happiness and height of a diluted twink which made him a happy medium. He figured that after the first run in and his mental gay panic, the ginger would vanish from his mind, but he began living rent-free, filling every empty crevice of Kenma’s brain with some reminder that he was still there.

“How is it?” Kuroo asked, shaking Kenma from his train of thought.

Swallowing the bite of a burger, Kenma mumbled, “good.”

“Good!” Kuroo gained a smirk that made a sinking feeling settle in Kenma’s chest, knowing it was probably a mistake accepting the McDonalds. “For gifting you this lovely food unprompted and letting you sleep in, I-“ 

“Want payment?” 

Kuroo looked pleased. “Exactly!” 

Kenma groaned, wiping his hands together and picking up the fries carton. 

“Oh, it’s not that bad. It’s just a party and I demand you come with me!”

“No.” 

“Please?” Kuroo presses, “I’ll get you breakfast the morning of.” 

Kenma looked at his pleading face. “I dunno.” 

“Morning of and the morning after?” 

“Hmm.” 

“Every morning?” 

He quirked his eyebrow at the offer that was too good to turn down. A breakfast from Kuroo every morning, the only consequence being forced to go to a party. Kuroo wouldn’t give up the bargaining, Kenma realized, his best friend would go as far as to drag Kenma to the party himself. 

A strange sense of déjà vu hit him.

“Fine,” he agreed begrudgingly, biting aggressively into a fry.

Kuroo’s jaw went slack for a split second before he fixed it with a smug grin. “Oh yeah, there we go, kitten!” He chimed, making Kenma’s eyes roll. 

He never understood the other’s insistence on him going out to social events. He did just fine living isolated in his little room, coming out for classes and food. He didn’t understand the need for parties, they were just stressful and he much preferred his comfy bed. He’d go out very rarely with Akaashi to a bar and maybe accompany Kuroo once somewhere fun, but never a party. Never anywhere bustling or where he had to be social.

“Maybe we can finally get you a girlfriend,” Kuroo waved a particularly soggy French fry Kenma’s way, which he promptly ripped away and ate. Kuroo deadpanned. 

“I don’t need a girlfriend,” Kenma asserted. He didn’t need a girlfriend, he didn’t need a boyfriend, he had no desire for either. However, the idea of a boyfriend with flaming orange hair and big amber eyes sounded- shut the fuck up, Kenma.

“You need a girlfriend,” Kuroo said, looking at him with a sideways grin. “When was the last time you got laid? Last year? Wasn’t it your first time? Who was that girl anyway?” 

Kenma grabbed a handful of Kuroo’s fries and shoved them into his mouth to avoid the questioning. He’d hooked up with his co-worker Lev a few times, unbeknownst to Kuroo. Lev was his first time, and only times and Kuroo had decided he was entitled to know about who it was since they’d been friends so long. Kuroo only knew Kenma had lost his virginity because he found an open condom box in his room. But Kuroo didn’t know that Kenma liked boys and it wasn’t a topic he wanted to breach with Kuroo.

Maybe if he got that ginger to be his it would be easier.

Kenma finished his red carton of fries, ignoring the names of girls Kuroo was listing off. He crushed the carton on itself and threw it at Kuroo’s face, stopping him in the middle of the name ‘Maddison’. He sucked the salt off his fingers and bounced off the side of the bed, throwing a thanks Kuroo’s way before strolling over to the hook of bags.

Kuroo sighed loudly and began gathering their trash in one area. “You will tell me one day!” Kuroo declared, sounding way too sure of himself.

“Okay,” Kenma said, drawing out the O and burying his phone into his bag before closing it and going for his keys. 

Kuroo went into the kitchen and wished him a good day as he left. Kenma didn’t respond as he shut the door behind him, beginning his walk to campus and wondering if the ginger got his McDonalds that night. 

—-

“I was beginning to think you would never wake up,” Akaashi said as he walked up to Kenma. The class had been dismissed and Akaashi had been sending him glances the entire class.

“Already wishing for my death?” Kenma mused without enthusiasm.

“Counting on it,” Akaashi stepped back, allowing Kenma to stand out of his seat and pull his bag back on. “Once you’re gone, that’ll be less dinner I have to cook, less laundry I have to clean, less idiots I have to look out for,” Akaashi sounded completely genuine as he listed off the reasons, making Kenma feel that much more loved with each passing word.

“I’m not that much of an idiot,” Kenma said.

Akaashi stopped moving and looked down at Kenma with tired eyes. “You went to bed at 7 am, knowing full well you had classes at 9 am today,” He said. Kenma shrugged it off as if it proved nothing. Akaashi went on. “You weren’t going to eat dinner yesterday because you were so immersed in your game. I don’t even think you had lunch. You need to be reminded to do simple things like, I don’t know, drink, eat, piss, and shower. You’re going to die without me next week. I’m like your mom. You and Bokuto.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kenma assured, moving past Akaashi and heading for the door, “If you’re like our mom, Kuroo’s our dad.” 

Akaashi huffed and followed behind, falling in step at his side. “He may be a dad to you but he’s the instigator to all Bokuto’s antics. If you don’t kill yourself while I’m gone, Bokuto will take you down with him while Kuroo watches, too busy laughing about it to put out the fire. You two are like my high maintenance twins I didn’t want and he’s my bastard of a husband.”

“Somebody say, twins?” Atsumu announced, inserting himself between the pair and wrapping his arms around their shoulders almost the second they made it outside. 

“Not you,” Akaashi said, looking up and behind at the blond Miya, any sign of remaining life in his eyes being squeezed out. 

Atsumu looked down at him with a prideful expression, “but I’m the best twin?” 

“That could be debated,” Akaashi brushed Atsumu’s arm off his shoulder like it was dusty. “I may be biased. Osamu makes the best martinis.” 

Osamu was a bartender at a beach-side bar Akaashi frequented since it was relatively close to the apartments. Kenma went a few times and found that, indeed, Osamu was a very good mixologist. He’d gone the day of his 20th birthday and was given the best Amaretto Sour made in the history of alcohol.

“Hey, I could make a good martini,” Atsumu argued, gaining a sarcastic ‘Oya?’ from the ravenette. Atsumu worked as a coach for an elementary level volleyball team. He was pursuing a degree in teaching while doing another major in culinary arts with his brother. He could cook like nobody’s business but Kenma doubted he’d be as good behind the bar as his brother in just a day. He’d heard they were planning to buy and run a bar together.

“‘Tsumu!” Osamu’s voice cut off whatever his brother was going to say, turning the three towards him. “Sho’s ready for the game! I seriously think he’ll explode if ya don’t get yer ass in there.” 

Osamu was dressed in plain clothes, showing he wasn’t playing, but he was walking away from the school’s gym, throwing his thumb back at a certain redhead bouncing in and out of the gym, dressed in clothes similar to Atsumu’s. Kenma’s breath caught in his throat.

Atsumu detached himself from the two and bid them goodbye, promising Akaashi that he’d wow him with a martini one day, and jogged towards the gym, smacking his brother’s shoulder the way there. 

The ginger man didn’t seem to notice Kenma, locking eyes on Atsumu and jumping in celebration before darting back into the gym, not bouncing out again.

He went to this university. He played for their volleyball team with one of his friends. They had connections- was his name Sho? Sho. Sho. He whispered the name to himself, breathing it out as a small smile claimed his lips. “Sho…”

Akaashi tugged his arms, pulling Kenma off of cloud nine and back to Earth. 

“Kenma?” 

Said blond turned back to Akaashi before he could get his smile under control.

The other’s face twitched, looking surprised as he analyzed Kenma before slowly morphing into a teasing smile. “Kenma,” He drawled, “do you have a crush?”

“No,” Kenma answered, too quick to be thought of as anything but suspicious, although he was telling the truth. He didn’t have a crush- he didn’t have a crush. 

Akaashi gained a Kuroo-like smirk, and Kenma damned the time they had spent together. He tilted his head past him, staring the same way Kenma had been stuck in stupid before pointing. “Is it her?” 

The girl his finger landed on was a short woman with chin-length Brunette hair, flipping her way through a textbook with a faint smile.

“No.”

“Her?” Akaashi pointed to another girl, this one innocently walking her way across the courtyard, books held tightly to her chest with black hair pulled up into an odd ponytail.

“No.” 

“What about her?” The next woman he landed on was a taller woman with blonde hair pulled into a bun with two long curled strands falling on either side of her face. She was shifting through papers on one of the picnic tables under a tree.

“That’s a teacher.”

“You could be into older women.”

“No.” 

Akaashi squinted at him and looked back in that general area. He was deep in thought for a moment, before it rushed to him and a lightbulb went off. “Oh, you like Osamu?”

Kenma drew in a shaky breath and released it with a hard “no.” He began walking, faster than before but Akaashi had no trouble keeping up. Damn long legs.

Akaashi seemed surprised at the harsh nature in which he delivered his reply, but not all that shaken overall. “My bad,” He apologized, “but it’s okay if you like Osamu. He’s very handsome. I completely under-“ 

“I don’t like Osamu,” Kenma insisted, annunciating every word to make his point clear. 

To this, Akaashi stopped, but Kenma didn’t, turning right down the forked path and waving at Akaashi backward. “I’ll see you at home,” he called, not caring enough to look back and gauge his reaction. 

He felt a bit bad for how rough he spoke, but he and Kuroo were on the same wavelength of nosy. If he didn’t get Akaashi to stop then, he would have cracked and he couldn’t be bothered to explain the feelings that ginger invoked in him that not even he understood. 

His face burned bright from the mere idea of telling anyone and he felt a bit nauseous. He didn’t like what that ginger was doing to him. Or, perhaps, he liked it way too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Kudos and comments are very appreciated, but I'm going to talk about something that will be very much more appreciated.
> 
> I'm sure you've heard of the Black Lives Matter protests sparking all over America, demanding justice for those killed and wrongly incarcerated by police. While not everyone can attend protests or donate, we all can sign petitions! I am going to link three petitions here that I think you should sign, and if you don't think you should because it won't do anything, IT WILL! Every little signature helps, so please, consider signing these petitions!
> 
> https://www.change.org/p/tony-evers-charge-the-cops-who-shot-jacob-blake?source_location=discover_feed
> 
> https://www.change.org/p/edmond-police-department-justice-for-isaiah-lewis-wrongfully-shot-and-killed-by-police-at-17-years-old
> 
> https://www.change.org/p/louisiana-governor-free-quierza-lewis-innocent-man-sentenced-to-life-w-o-parole-at-hard-labor-for-non-violent-drug-conviction
> 
> Also, if you don't support Black Lives Matter, kindly fuck off, I don't need racist shits reading anything I create!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a doozie... but it's also a fucking doozie that police brutality is still a thing! 
> 
> http://chng.it/2bhxwjP6J7 This is a petition to charge the cops who shot Jacob Blake in the back 7 times. This was unnecessary force needed for a man who was simply walking to his car. In no way shape or form is this okay!
> 
> Remember, if y'all have any topics or petitions you want me to put up here you can comment or you can DM me @losifeaur on Instagram!

Kenma cursed whatever force of the universe that decided he was going to be a man, staring down at the tent in his pants. It certainly wasn’t the normal wake-up n’ pop-up he had, and he could thank the dirty dream of the redhead for that. He didn’t even know the guy and his Lil’ Kenny was responding to a nameless man looking sexy in his mind. 

He took a cold shower to make it go away, not willing to further disgust himself by doing it the right way, but the horniness lingered throughout the day to the point he knew he’d have to get something done in order for it to go away. His solution came in the form of an oversized, silver-haired, emerald-eyed half-Russian by the name of Lev. 

Not only would Lev get rid of his physical needs, but it may also satisfy him mentally. Maybe he’d satisfy him so much he forgets about the redhead, or maybe the liking for him would diminish completely. He could deal with a romantic crush on Lev if that damn ginger would just poof from the horny cluster that was his mental playground. 

At work that night, a non-busy night thanks to the fact it was a Monday and nobody wanted to do much on Mondays, he found time to pull him aside and make his request.

Lev was confused at first, apparently not getting what Kenma meant by going; “Can we,” swirling hands in circles, “we, we,” up and down now, grabbing at the air, “woop. A doop. Bap.”

“Is this a new slang term I don’t know about?” Lev asked as he watched Kenma’s erratic hand motions. “You know I’m not good at those!”

“No!” Kenma whisper-yelled. His face burned red as he searched for a PG way to ask. “I want… to.. bingalingdong!” 

“Are you being racist?” 

“Lev! Fuck! Fuck me!” 

Lev blinked his eyes a little wider and looked around the empty back room as if anyone could hear. He then looked to Kenma, and his face brightened. “You could have just said! You know I’d never say no,” He winked, shooting finger guns while Kenma wallowed in his shame, hands to his face and rubbing like he could take off the pink.

Their shift ended together at 9:30 pm. They hung up their uniforms after changing and headed together to Lev’s car. Lev drove them to his all-too-fancy apartment building and parked in the also too fancy parking garage. And soon enough, Kenma was under Lev. They rocked against each other, breathing heavily, and Kenma even made eye-contact. He never made eye-contact. But the eye-contact meant nothing when all he saw was those Goddamn amber eyes staring back at him, low and clouded with lust.

He did finish, however.

Lev came soon after, pulling out and disposing of the condom in his bedside garbage. He then collapsed beside Kenma, twisting his arm around his waist and pulling him close. He nuzzled his head on top of Kenma’s and entangled their legs. Kenma couldn’t bring himself to do much but slightly shift so his head rested on Lev’s collarbones and rest his hands between their chests. He stared at the ceiling. 

Disgust pooled in his stomach. He felt like such a creep. Getting off to a guy he’d seen twice in his lifetime. He thought of the ginger like he’d known him for 20 years when the most words he’d said to him was a meek ‘no’.

“What’s wrong?” 

Kenma lazily raised his eyes to look at Lev. He had drawn away and was staring down at Kenma with a concerned face. Which said a lot. Lev couldn’t read people for shit, and Kenma never showed emotion well. The fact that Lev could see something was wrong spoke volumes.

“Was I not good?”

Kenma shifted again, turning so that his back was fully pressed into the bed and he could stare straight at the ceiling without having to watch Lev’s face. “You were fine. Pretty good, actually,” Kenma said.

To this, Lev sat up with a grin. He rolled on top of Kenma to look him in the eyes, exactly what Kenma feared, but he didn’t have the energy to shift away.

“So what’s wrong?” Lev tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy.

Kenma let out a breath, lowering his eyes. He could tell Lev. Lev was dumb but he could shut his mouth well. Lev wouldn’t judge him and he was too dumb to investigate anything.

“I think I like someone. But I don’t even know them.” 

“Oho?” Lev leaned down so that his body rested on top of Kenma’s. His chin was on Kenma’s sternum and his fingers rubbed small circles into his collarbone. He still made complete eye-contact.

“Oho. I’ve seen them twice. I haven’t even properly met them. But they’re all I think about and it’s stressing me out.” He plopped his hands on Lev’s head and used his hair as a stress toy. Lev didn’t mind.

“Let’s take a bath. Baths relieve stress! And I know you love my bath!” Up Lev went again, doing a push-up so he was over Kenma, eye contact never faltering. “You can talk to me then.”

Kenma looked away and nodded. Lev had such upbeat energy that he could connect to the ginger. Happy. Kind. Just good energy. That’s what drew Kenma to Lev initially, but that ginger was something different. What was it?

Lev went to start a bath before coming to help Kenma into the bathroom. Lev had a bathroom that was too big for one person and too fancy for what a bathroom had to be. His bath could probably fit three people, which made it easy for him to stretch out his legs. It was deep enough so that when filled to the brim sitting upright, it reached just under his nipples.

He rested against Lev’s chest, letting the other’s arms encircle him, pressing to his stomach and dipping his fingers into the soft skin. Once upon a time, Kenma had a slightly tight stomach, thanks to volleyball, but come college, it had softened up with the lack of exercise and abundance of McDonald’s. He remained skinny, however, which was just annoying.

They both laid in the hot water for a moment before Lev took some shampoo in his hand and began rubbing it through Kenma’s hair. He took this as a subtle, “start talking.” 

“So… um. I really like him. But I don’t know him. And not even you fucking me made me stop thinking of him,” Kenma admitted, putting his hands on his lap and lifting them, watching the water fall through his fingers.

Lev hummed. “This sounds just like a Disney romance movie,” He said, dumping a handful of water on top of his hair. “Like love at first sight!” 

“I don’t know this guy, Lev.” 

“That’s what love at first sight is! Maybe you should try to know him,” Lev began conditioning Kenma’s hair, leaving Kenma to wipe the suds of the shampoo off his chest and back.

“Maybe,” He muttered. The thought was scary, although so tempting. Humoring the idea already had him wondering where he could buy the suits for their wedding and whether or not he should invite Kuroo. 

“Maybe if you get to know him, he’ll turn out to be a major douche! And you’ll want nothing to do with him!” 

“Hopefully…” 

Hopefully not.

—-

He slept over Lev’s place, too tired and his legs too wobbly to walk home. He woke up to Lev thrusting a ringing phone in his face. 

Annoyed, he sat up and answered, “hello-“

“Kenma! I swear to God! Do you have a brain?” 

“Morning, Kuro.” 

Kenma sat up, half-listening as Kuroo chewed him out for not answering his calls or texts all night. Lev rolled out of bed before Kenma, getting dressed quietly while Kenma talked.

“Just… next time, call me? Tell me you won’t make it home? I was two calls away from calling the cops and filing a missing person’s report.”

“Whatever, sure. I am twenty, you know,” Kenma pulled his phone away from his ear to check the time before putting it back. 

“Yes… Where are you anyway?” 

“My friend’s place,” Kenma looked up at Lev, who waved upon the word ‘friend’ and mouthed, ‘tell him I said hi!’ He didn’t.

“Your friend’s?” Kuroo puts emphasis on friends. Kenma could almost hear the shit-eating grin coming from him. 

“My friend’s.” 

“Okay… Did you use protection? Can I talk to her?” 

“Just my friend.”

“Is your friend hot? Ohh! Is she up for a threesome? Kenma, you’d be amazed at my-“ 

“Is there anything else you want, Kuro?” Kenma cut him off, not willing to figure out what he would be amazed at. 

Kuroo sighed on the other side, and there was a faint tapping. There was a pause of silence before he began again. “Bo’s bringing Akaashi to his parents’ house. Want him to pick you up?”

“Sure,” Kenma shifted off so his feet touched the floor. 

“Where?”

Kenma thought for a moment and then decided to tell him to meet him at the cafe closest to his work. 

“Right on! Should be like,” he paused, “an hour. He could pick you up right at your,” he paused briefly again, probably to do quotations in the air, “friend’s,” he drug out the word longer than he had to, “place.”

“Yeah, no.” 

“What? Worried he’ll steal her? Worried I’ll steal her? Oh don’t worry… she’s safe with you. I just wanna see what h-“ 

Kenma hung up the phone and put it on Lev’s bedside table. 

“I have to leave in an hour,” Kenma said, catching a shirt Lev threw at him. 

“Aw, okay!” Lev grabbed his jeans from the ground and tossed them to Kenma. He caught it and began pulling them on over the boxers he slept in. He then decided it was time for the shirt, throwing off Lev’s and putting on the one he wore yesterday. 

Having an hour to spare, they went and made coffee, then went and laid on the couch. Lev turned on Spongebob.

Kenma curled himself into his side, and Lev comfortably draped an arm over his shoulder. They sat in silence until Lev poked his cheek. He looked up.

“What’s this dude look like?” He asked.

Kenma stared at him, and then hummed, looking back to the TV. “Well… he’s got brown eyes. He’s ginger.”

“A ginger?” Lev gasped, putting a hand on his mouth. “That’s not a good sign.”

Kenma hit him softly and looked forward to the cable box under the TV. “I should get going,” he said softly, picking himself up and walking to the bedroom where his phone was.

“Aw, okay. I’ll see you tonight!” 

“See you.”

—-

Kenma clamored into the backseat of their shared mom van and buckled himself in. Akaashi sat at the wheel, and Bokuto sat pleasantly at the passenger seat. 

“Hi, Ken! You really worried Akaashi and Kuroo, y’know,” Bokuto said after turning around to face Kenma. 

“I know. Woke up to a lecture.” Kenma pulled out his phone and opened up a game at random.

“Had a good night, didja?” Bokuto asked, his voice trembling.

“Yep…” He muttered nonchalantly. 

Bokuto breathed heavily. “Your… um… your neck.” Kenma internally cursed Lev but didn’t speak, for fear of a voice crack. 

“You smell good. Fancy cologne?” 

Damn Akaashi.

“Mhm.” 

—-

“You drive like a crazy,” Kenma said, gripping his seat belt tighter to keep himself from tumbling over. He had to put down his game a few minutes ago after Akaashi had taken a particularly rough turn and he nearly threw the damn thing out the window.

Bokuto’s face was contorted into one of horror, holding the handle above him like it was a lifeline- which it might have just been.

“This isn’t fast,” Akaashi said, no hint of a joke anywhere in his tone.

“I think he’s just excited to have an entire liquor cabinet to himself,” Bokuto squeaked.

“I’m not Oikawa,” Akaashi slowed, surprisingly, as he rounded a corner and went a few feet before turning into the driveway of a two-story home. A dog barked at the window, bouncing up and down upon their arrival.

They all got out, bidding Akaashi a goodbye-Bokuto gave quite the bone-crushing hug- before getting back in, Kenma now taking the passenger’s seat and Bokuto getting to drive.

Akaashi stood and waved them bye as they drove out. Kenma got to play his game now, not as scared with Bokuto driving. They drove in blissful quiet for a while, the only sound being Bokuto’s humming.

Bokuto stopped abruptly and said, “so. Who’d ya screw?” 

Kenma leaned forward and turned the radio on and up. 

Bokuto whined. “Come on! Tell big boy Bobo! I can be trusted!” 

“Why do you want to know so badly?” Kenma looked up and glared, “do you wanna fuck her too?” 

Bo’s eyes were still on the road, but he pursed his lips and his eyebrows twitched in the same way they did as when he was hiding something. 

Kuroo. Ugh. He was too easy.

“You made a bet with Kuroo, didn’t you?” Kenma bit and Bokuto crumbled, his face contorting into shame. He whined loudly, almost perfectly harmonizing with Adele’s elongated “side” in ‘Hello’. 

“Stop being so smart, Kenny!” He tapped the wheel, “we just wanna know who the girl is.”

“You won’t know the girl. I will not tell you,” He said tersely, gripping his phone a little tighter than he should have.

“Akaashi says you have a crush on someone. He named the someone.” 

“I’m ignoring you,” He turned up the radio to it’s highest setting, and Bokuto continued to whine as if he’d been horribly wounded.

True to his word, Kenma completely ignored him, tuning into the music and his game. 

\---

Friday came faster than Kenma wanted it to and, as promised, Kuroo brought him breakfast every day he was home. The two days he woke up elsewhere, Kuroo got him dinner and badgered him a little longer about who he was sleeping with. Tired of ignoring him, he started to say random artists. One time, he said Beyoncé in front of Bokuto, and the poor guy completely believed it. He’d even asked for Kenma to connect them. No matter how much he tried to imagine fucking Beyoncé, however, that ginger, ‘Sho’ never left his mind.

He woke up that Friday and lazily shuffled himself out to the kitchen to get himself some coffee. Kuroo was writing something even though it had to be before 8 am. Bokuto was probably out on a run, as it was completely quiet. It disgusted him that they got up so early and could get moving. Akaashi wasn’t a morning person, but he was more tolerant to it than Kenma. He’d drag himself out, drink coffee and be silent or a dick until he had snapped himself out of it and begun functioning properly.

Kuroo was alerted of his presence and looked up. “Oh, good! You’re here!” Kuroo put his pencil down and tucked the paper into a folder beside him. “Gonna tell me who you’re sleeping with?” 

“Nope.” 

Kenma filled his mug lazily, putting one hand up his shirt to scratch his chest before dressing it up and walking to the couch. He sunk into the cushions and watched the show that was on, wondering if the ginger guy liked it.

He concluded probably not. That ginger guy was too cool for My Little Pony… though nobody was too cool for My Little Pony. He was an exception.

Rainbow Dash did her sonic rainboom and in the middle of it, Kuroo approached him, fully dressed and holding a stack of his clothes.

“You gotta do laundry, Ken, these were the last in your closet,” Kuroo hummed, holding them down to Kenma. 

Kenma stared at him like he was stupid. Class didn’t start for two hours, and he was perfectly happy in his sweats and sweater. 

“What do you want?” 

Kuroo dropped the clothes in his lap against Kenma’s will and pointed towards his room’s door. “Get dressed. We’re going to a nice diner to end off our ‘Kuroo spoils Kenma rotten week’.”

Kenma ignored him, forcing Kuroo to grab the clicker and turn off the TV. “Now, kitten,” Kuroo poked his cheek, “you’ll love it.” 

Kenma sighed heavily and dragged himself up. He got ready and met Kuroo at the door. He was smirking casually and swinging his key on his finger, “there we go, kitten!”

Kenma hummed in acknowledgment of his words and followed him out.

—-

They got to the diner and sat down. A petite waitress greeted them. She was much smaller than Kenma with short blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and a sweet smile.

“Hello!” She waved to them, placing two menus down and putting her hands together.

Kuroo smirked, “Hello,” he said slowly, drawing out the o. He looked down at her name tag, then back up to her, “Hitoka. What a beautiful name…” 

Hitoka’s eyes widened and her face heated up. “Um…” She squeaked, her voice cracking.

“Does a pretty girl like you have a number?” Kuroo leaned towards her, holding a cool expression with raised eyebrows.

She stuttered for a moment and looked around. “I..” 

“Cat got your tongue, b-“ 

“Asahi!” She scrambled to a different table, allowing a different, very tall waiter to take her place. Kuroo seemed to recognize him.

“Hey! Asahi!” Kuroo smirked and put his hand out for a bro handshake, “Didn’t know you worked here.”

Asahi pulled his hand away after the shake, returning it to hold a notepad that looked much too small to be held by him. He opened his mouth, then closed it, and looked down at his name tag. Then, he slowly said, “This is Azumane’s Diner… I own this.”

Kenma put his hand up to hide his snort. 

Kuroo looked down at the menu for confirmation and then laughed at himself. “Ahh… yes. Yep. I see that now,” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

Asahi smiled apologetically. “So…” he looked between them, “can I get you guys anything to drink?”

Quickly recovered, Kuroo requested, “we’ll both take coffees. How’s the wife?”

“I don’t have a wife,” Asahi frowned, “my girlfriend just broke up with me…” 

“Aw, man, I’m sorry. Who’s getting the kids?”

Asahi puffed up his lips, and then looked behind him. “You mean Kimi? She’s right there,” he pointed behind him to an oversized mastiff laying on an orange bed, stretched out and snoozing, “and she’s mine.” 

“Woah, she looks bigger than that waitress Kuroo harassed,” Kenma gaped.

“She is,” Asahi confirmed. “Now.. do you know what you want to eat? Or are you just talkative?”

“Don’t like us, Azumane?” Kuroo cooed.

“No!” Asahi put his hand with the pad out, “I like you! I just have other costumers…” 

“Go. He’ll just keep harassing you,” Kenma waved him off. Asahi looked to him thankfully and walked off. 

Kenma looked forward to Kuroo once he was gone and deadpanned at him. His pocket was empty with his lack of phone, thanks to Kuroo, and Kuroo was looking at him like he was expecting a conversation.

“Excited for tonight?” Kuroo asked, pulling his empty mug forward.

“Hilarious. Like hell,” Kenma muttered, looking down his own empty mug. 

“Oh don’t be like that! It’s gonna be fun.” 

“Wrong,” Kenma glared at him, “it’s-“ the bell above the door dinged and his eyes instinctively traveled to the people entered. His words fell short and any trace of the conversation he was having disappeared upon seeing a ginger man entering the establishment behind a dark-haired woman. He was dressed in something similar to Asahi and looked rushed as he fast-walked to the counter and hurtled the barrier to get behind. 

Something about the display made Kenma extremely parched.

“Woah, no way. You’re into Kiyoko?” 

Kenma’s gay panic ended at Kuroo’s words and he snapped his head towards him. Kuroo was smirking, looking the same way Kenma had. 

Shit.

He glanced back. The dark-haired woman was standing by the counter now, talking to Asahi. She was… very beautiful actually. It stunned him for a half a minute before his brain went back on tracks. His mini-staring probably made Kuroo’s assumption go further. 

“No,” his voice cracked.

“Dude, you so are. Everyone is. Didn’t think you’d be too into her though,” Kuroo smirked.

“I’m not.” Kenma put more force into keeping his tone steady. 

“Are.”

“Not.”

“Are.” 

“Not.” 

“Are!” 

“Not!” 

“I have your coffee,” Asahi ended their back-and-forth by appearing next to them with a tall pot, pouring coffee into each of their mugs. He put the pot down along with a small ceramic bowl of creamer and pointed out the sugar packets and honey. “Do you know what you want to eat?”

Kuroo smirked. “We do. Kenma want’s Kiyoko’s tight c-“ 

“Crepes. I want crepes. With ripped cream. And blueberries. And some bacon,” Kenma ordered quickly. His heart was racing a marathon.

Asahi and Kuroo both looked surprised at Kenma’s loud order. Even he was surprised at his gall. He was 20 and had never ordered anything for himself. It was pathetic, sure, but Kuroo never cared much about helping him, after all, when they first became friends, it was always Kenma doing the talking and ordering.

Asahi got over his shock and jotted the menu down with a compliment, and took Kuroo’s order before leaving. 

Kenma watched until Azumane disappeared, and grumbled, “you’re such an asshole.” 

He watched the counter where the ginger had emerged, now I’m the same apron Asahi wore and looking over papers before making drinks and orders. He worked so quickly and he looked so happy doing it. Even when it looked like he got burned, he ran his finger under cold water with a smile. What an interesting cutie.

“I was just gonna get you some Kiyoko puss!” Kuroo laughed heartily and settled into an inquisitive expression. “Unless… is she the one you’re sleeping with?” 

“No.” 

“Believable. Anyways, kitten, we’re going to the party at like 10. Be ready then.”

“Fine,” Kenma tore his eyes away from the ginger after drinking in every detail of his appearance, “but if you and Bokuto bring home another girl to double team, I’ll put salt in your coffee.” 

Kuroo rolled his eyes and muttered, “no fun. But fine, fine, kitten.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a special chapter! It's special cause- you'll see. 
> 
> Here are some other things you should see.
> 
> http://chng.it/ybJf5jJFf5 Here is a petition to help protect black trans women who are being murdered at a terrifyingly high rate here in the United States. 
> 
> https://www.change.org/p/justice-for-kayla-moore Here is a petition calling for justice for a black trans woman, Kayla Moore. She was a schizophrenic woman having a mental crisis when police were called, who took her to the ground and held her there until she died.
> 
> http://chng.it/C72nvBt7Qx And here is a petition addressing the children in changes. It's calling for their release- children do not belong in cages and that damn cheeto on a throne should not have the right to say they belong there. Sign this petition to get them out safely.

Bokuto gasped loudly upon Kenma’s unenthused entrance. “You look sick, Kenny! You’re gonna get all the girls!” He encouraged, throwing his thumb up towards him. He stood at the doorway with Kuroo, both waiting on the blond before they could leave. It was 10:10, they were running a bit late, but there was no rush. Kuroo said they were going to be fashionably late. Kenma just hoped nobody would notice them.

“You sure he won’t get the boys, Bo? He really needs a haircut,” Kuroo looked at him teasingly, moving his eyes up and down twice. 

Kenma looked at him without expression. He knew he looked girly, girly for a guy. He didn’t like dressing up for that exact reason. Being called ma’am a few times did get annoying.

He’d put on a simple outfit of black jeans and a red button-up. His hair was tied half up, and he didn’t think it was the girliest thing he’d worn. 

“Nah bro, he looks cool! He’s almost as pretty as Akaashi!” Bokuto put his hands out towards Kenma and smiled. His smile calmed and he pursed his lips. “Well… Maybe not. He’s prettier than us!”

“Exactly. So he might have some guys coming for his ass,” Kuroo said, opening the door and keeping his arm out for Bokuto and Kenma to walk under. 

“He might. That's okay! Gay is okay!”

“Yeah, maybe he wants a boy.” 

Before those two could continue the conversation as if he wasn’t there, Kenma cut in, adding, “I’m going for the drinks.”

—-

Kenma lost his buddies only a few minutes after when they entered the party. They’d stuck with him long enough to find where they were serving drinks, and by the time he’d turned, those two bumbling idiots had disappeared. Kenma doubted he’d find them again, which bothered him to some degree, but calmed him with the realization that he could probably dip out earlier than expected. He even had his phone with him.

He found a wall and leaned against it, holding his beer with one hand and scrolling through social media with the other. The song playing was good, so he figured he’d leave once it was over, and once he could guess that the idiots probably strayed far elsewhere. The beer wasn’t good, but it wasn’t terrible. It was run of the mill beer, the cheap and crappy kind that was only good for getting you drunk. He wasn’t a fan. He didn’t like being drunk, he’d been drunk twice and both times had produced embarrassing stories he’d never live down. He didn’t get how Oikawa or Akaashi liked it so much, but he doubted either of them had self-preservation in mind, nor a very pleasant mind to begin with.

He took another sip of the drink and decided he could find someone he knew and give it to them before he left. He moved away from the wall and began searching the faces of those attending the party. He regretted not being more social. 

All of those attending were unfamiliar to him. Sure, he’d seen a few of them, but he didn’t really know any of them. He could name one but had never shared a word with her. 

He wondered if it would be acceptable to just put it somewhere and leave. He was in the middle of searching for a good place when a hand gripped his shoulder.

He jumped at the contact and whipped his head around. Behind him, smiling smugly was Atsumu. He didn’t have a drink in his hand and he still looked surprisingly sober.

“Kenny boy!” He greeted, sliding his arm fully around his shoulders, “Our game is short a couple of players. How drunk are you?”

Kenma internally groaned. A game with either of the Miya twins never sounded good. They always cheated. He’d learned this while playing checkers with them one day. He’d cursed his memory for putting his pieces in the wrong spots and forgetting where they went until he looked up to see Osamu sliding his red check painfully quietly. They were the kings of Bullshit. And they always fucking won at Go Fish due to the honors system. 

Still, he figured Atsumu had him and wouldn’t let him go without at least one round. Maybe he could even pick up on their tactics and piss off one of his roommates playing. “This is all I’ve had,” He said, holding up the beer and shaking the practically full can, “and I’ve barely sipped it.”

“Oh wonderful,” Atsumu chuckled, pulling the smaller male closer as they turned and began wading through the crowd.

Kenma didn’t protest, simply walked with him, fearing the worst. Maybe he could record the ordeal and watch it back for tips. Or maybe he wouldn’t be able to watch it back. Maybe Atsumu was taking him to his basement to demolish his ankles and he’d then proceed to live out some fucked up love story and wouldn’t have time to fantasize about that ginger. 

Speaking of that ginger. 

Atsumu led him through a door and down a flight of steps. He stopped at the bottom and waved out to the gathering of people, sitting in a circle around a gathering of shot glasses and liquor bottles on the floor. He recognized a few people. Osamu, Yaku, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi were all part of the circle, watching as he came down. There were a few other boys and some girls. Who he didn’t expect, and who nearly sent him into a heart attack, was the pleasant little ginger, staring up at him with an excited expression. 

He was wearing a white shirt with Portuguese words across his chest and blue jeans. He had a simple long necklace around his neck that somehow put the outfit all together. He raised a hand to wave, and he was pretty sure his whole world rocked.

“Look! We got out missin’ link!” Atsumu cheered, pulling Kenma even closer and pressing his cheek to his hair. “This is Kenma, and he’s a boy, just so ya know,” He patted Kenma’s chest as if to show it was flat, and then walked him closer to the circle.

“Just your type,” he heard a girl whisper to another, “an emo boy. I bet he’s packing.”

He grimaced externally as Atsumu forced his shoulders down, making Kenma sit next to Osamu. Atsumu then sat beside him and looked around the circle as the rest of them discussed Kenma. It made him feel incredibly small.

Osamu nudged him with his shoulder to gain his attention. Kenma looked at him, and Osamu immediately started pointing. First, his finger snapped to a raven-haired man who looked like the same guy who’d been with the ginger on his first meeting with him. “That’s Kageyama,” his fingers then moved to Oikawa, “that’s Oikawa,” and then he pointed to a guy with ash blonde hair with black tips, “and that’s Semi. They’re my co-workers. Iwaizumi,” he pointed, and then he pointed at a bald guy, “and Tanaka work with ‘Tsumu. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout those girls, but Sakusa,” he pointed to a guy with dark curly hair and then he pointed to a Goliath of a man, “Ushijima and,” his finger pointed towards the ginger, “Shoyo play with ‘Tsumu.” 

Shoyo. 

At the mention of his name, Shoyo looked over and met eyes with Kenma. He waved again and sent him a blinding smile. Kenma wondered if he could die by a smile. He would be perfectly fine with passing away with that smile pointed towards him.

Kenma’s bliss was ended by the sound of Atsumu.

“Let’s warm ourselves up with a game of Never Have I Ever!” He pointed to the shot glasses and bottles, “We’ll take a shot each time we’ve done one of the mentioned questions. Now, take a glass! Go on kiddos!” 

Kenma had never played a drinking game, but he took a shot glass anyway and placed it next to his can. This was also something Akaashi loved. He still couldn’t believe how Akaashi drank like a motherfucker and was almost two months younger than him.

Deciding he could endure the weak beer, he poured a little bit into the glass, and Atsumu didn’t seem to care, nor notice. He noticed a few others with cans, using them to fill their shots. The ginger was one of them.

“Who wants to start?” Atsumu asked once the clear bottle had made its round and was back in the middle. 

Immediately, the ginger, Shoyo’s hand raised and he wiggled it excitedly, faster than anybody else who had tried to raise their hand in the circle. The ravenette beside him seemed embarrassed by this display, but Atsumu laughed and pointed. 

“Okay Sho, ballsy!” 

Shoyo’s hand went down and he rubbed his finger around the rim of his shot glass. “Alright! Never have I ever…” He bounced and his glass nearly tipped over, “played on a volleyball team!”

“You’re so fucking stupid!” Kageyama took a shot and then smacked Shoyo on the back of his head, “the point is to not drink!” 

Shoyo had a look of realization and then he frowned. “I thought it was the other way. My bad!” He smiled at the group. 

Kenma had to control the small smile that spread across his lips. He found Shoyo’s stupidity endearing. From the brief frustrated look to the way he apologized, it was just adorable.

Mostly everybody in the group, minus all but one of the girls and the unnamed boy, took a shot. He did as well, glancing above to watch the rest of the group fill another.

He nearly choked when he heard Shoyo’s voice, directed at him. “You play too? That’s so cool!” He cheered. His eyes were fixated on Kenma like he’d guessed.

Kenma gulped down a lump in his throat. His face was red. “Small world, right? I played in high school…” His voice shook while he talked, sounding shyer than he intended. The slight praise made warmth bloom in his stomach.

Shoyo was overly happy with the response he got, to which Kenma only melted more. He would have probably turned into a puddle if Atsumu didn’t talk when he did.

“Tobio, your turn!”

Kageyama cursed under his breath. He stared at the ground, and then started mouthing to himself. He looked up, around, and then smirked. “Never have I ever had a U in my name.”

“Cheap,” Osamu huffed as he threw back a shot. 

It seemed only Semi, Shoyo and Tobio didn’t take shots. Kenma dejectedly took his, knowing that this wasn’t going well for him.

Next up was Yaku. He proudly puffed his chest up, met eyes with Kenma, and said, “Never have I ever gone to Nekoma High!”

Kenma settled as the rest took a shot, mumbling about it not being fair. Kenma found it completely fair.

The game went on, not completely awful, but not perfectly. He may or may not have noted all the things Shoyo took a shot for, that he doubted he’d remember all of, but he relished in the knowledge. He’d worked up a buzz by the time Atsumu called it quits, the liquor bottle having gotten drained. 

“Now!” He said, waving his shot in the air while Osamu reached over Kenma to tap it like he was calling a toast, “We’re onto what we all came down here for.”

There was a chorus of ‘Oh’s around the room and quiet, excited cheers, which confused Kenma. There was a certain game they all came down here for?

He was suddenly unsettled, looking around and seeing the same kind of expression on everybody’s face.

Atsumu would probably kill him if he stood and ran right then and there. And with his blood alcohol content currently, he’d probably accidentally kill himself.

“Who’s ready for 7 minutes in heaven?” He sang, wiggling the empty bottle. 

Oh.

The cheers got louder, but the curly-haired guy- Sakura?- look overly displeased, his eye twitching. Kenma could guess his lip was probably twitching under the mask he wore too. 

Kenma wasn’t all that happy himself. While the girls were pretty, none were his type, certainly not the one who’d said he was her type. They were all… preppy kind of pretty girls who looked like they’d make fun of him in middle school. And neither were any of the boys, given they’d do any boy-on-boy things. All of the other boys- beside Shoyo, and maybe Iwaizumi- he’d never think twice about touching sexually.

“Rules, first and foremost, Osamu and I won’t do anythin’ together. Nothin’. Don’t even try to get us to, we’ll throw you out,” The twins gained a slightly dark look, which made Kenma wonder if they’d run into some hungry fujoshi’s before. “Second. Ya can decline, but to decline, ya gotta drink!” As he said that, Osamu pulled over the second liquor bottle and opened it. “And to make this more interesting, we’re encouraging same-sex stuff. We’re young, why not try some shit out!” Atsumu winked at the girls, and then to the curly-haired guy, who flipped him off. 

Kenma looked towards the ginger immediately. He was eying everybody in the circle, looking from guy to guy to girl to girl. He was considering everyone, maybe. He quickly darted his eyes away when Shoyo’s eyes traveled his way.

“Who wants to start? No one? No one?” Atsumu looked at the quiet room and then smirked. He flipped the bottle, catching it by the neck and held it out towards Iwaizumi, “Come on, Hajime. I choose you.”

“That’s my line…” 

Iwaizumi ignored Oikawa’s comment and took the bottle, placing it in front of him and spinning it. Oikawa stared at the bottle hopefully as it slowed, then gained a dejected look as it spun past him and landed on the girl next to Iwaizumi.

She went bright red and met eyes with Iwaizumi. They shared a look like they were talking, and then she laughed and stood up. He did as well, smiling just a little. “Alright,” He said, “point me.” 

Atsumu pointed to a door opposite to the stairs, and the girl looped arms with him and they walked to the closet and shut the door. Osamu started a timer.

“This is bullshit,” Oikawa complained, taking the opened bottle from Osamu and pouring it into his shot and taking it.

“Game’s a game!” Atsumu smirked, “it’ll hopefully get this virgin out here!” He hit Kenma’s back harshly.

“I’m not a virgin…” He muttered and went ignored.

“Let’s play Uno while we wait,” Osamu suggested- more commanded- pulling out an unopened Uno card pack from his pocket.

“Why do you have Uno in your pocket?” Semi asked, gaping as Osamu opened it and shuffled the pack.

“You don’t?” Osamu hummed.

“Ah yeah, never know when you gotta pull a reverse card!” Tanaka laughed like an idiot.

“Um. I think you two are the only ones who do that,” Yaku said pointedly as Osamu began dealing the cards.

The game began while they waited. Eventually, the timer went off and the two stumbled out. The girls’ clothes were fluffed up, and Iwaizumi left without a belt. Yaku had been the one to point out the lack of a belt, which he quickly went back to grab. 

“We couldn’t hear anything,” Semi gaped as the two walked back to the spots they’d been and stood, noticing the card game going on. 

Atsumu whistled. “It’s quite the soundproof closet, eh? My daughter was conceived in there.”

“My niece was what?” Osamu looked harshly at his brother. 

Atsumu turned away quickly and thrust the empty bottle at Oikawa. “Tooru! It’s your turn!”

Oikawa took it and spun, his eyes flickering between the bottle and Iwaizumi. The top landed on Ushijima. He stared at the Goliath of a man with a distressed look in his eyes, his mouth open wide.

“I-“ 

“Oh, Shittykawa, Atsumu did say this was a night for experiments,” Iwaizumi grabbed his arm, “look at that. Why not give it a try?” 

“Iwa!” Oikawa squeaked as Iwaizumi stood him up. 

“I gladly accept,” Ushijima stood up, “I will be gentle.”

The room howled with laughter as Tooru looked between Ushijima, the bottle and Iwaizumi, slowly stood walking to the closet behind Ushijima. 

The girl and Iwaizumi took Ushijima and Oikawa’s cards in the Uno game, and they went on like this a couple of times. It mostly landed on guys and girls. One of the guy on guy pairings rejected each other, and directly after, a girl on girl laid went off together. When Osamu spun, it landed on the space between Shoyo and a girl. He’d called Shoyo name a few times. He’d winked, shot finger guns, and clapped, but Shoyo was too focused on his cards and Kageyama’s words that he didn’t notice. He’d finally just decided to go with the girl. 

Kenma couldn’t help the jealousy that coursed through him at the thought of Shoyo actually noticing Osamu’s advances. He tried to ignore it, though it was hard. 

Eventually, the bottle landed in his shaky hands, exactly as the third game of Uno finished. 

Kenma was ready to take a shot but spun the bottle anyways. He wasn’t a prude certainly, but none of these girls were his type. Atsumu and Osamu scared him. Ushijima was really big. Oikawa was Oikawa. Kageyama wasn’t his type either. Yaku was like a mother-figure to him. Curly dude looked like he’d spray Lysol down his throat given the chance. The rest, he couldn’t even imagine doing anything with. Except for Shoyo. God, it would be a musicale if-

The bottle slowed to a stop, the top pointing directly at Shoyo. He had to stare at it for a second, making sure he was seeing it right. Once he was positive he was seeing correctly, he raised his eyes to look directly at Shoyo, who stared back instead of being distracted with anything else.

His cheeks were red and he had a finger pointed right at his chest. He smiled, and then said, “Is this okay?” 

Kenma didn’t have enough oxygen to verbally respond. He nodded, rising to his legs, which felt like lead. The two others who had gone before them took their spots, and they slipped into the closet. 

He was in first, standing awkwardly against the wall as Shoyo closed the door and then stepped in front of Kenma. He looked up to make eye contact, and his face lit on fire. He hoped Shoyo would write it off as alcohol.

“Hi,” Shoyo said after a tense moment of silence passed, “sorry for making you push me over that one night.”

“Making me push you over… I don’t think that’s a thing. I’m sorry for not paying attention,” Kenma looked at Shoyo’s shoes. They were white sneakers with an orange bottom and an orange Nike symbol. They were ugly in the cutest way.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” Shoyo laughed, and he stepped a little closer. The tips of their shoes touched. “Um. Have you ever been with a boy?” 

“Yep,” Kenma dared to lift his eyes. Like the sun, Shoyo’s presence seemed to light the dingy closet, making it hard to look away. His bright smile melted away any anxiety that had built in his chest that night. At such a close proximity, he could make out the golden flecks in his eyes and what looked like light freckles spread across his nose.

“That’s cool! I haven’t been with a boy… show me how to do this!” 

Shoyo took another step forward, his hands finding Kenma’s hips and dipping his thumbs into his waistband. The boldness of his movements freaked out Kenma, but he couldn’t make himself push Shoyo away. It made him feel good. Shoyo pulled their hips together, and Kenma went a little tense upon feeling Shoyo’s lil friend pressing into him.

Kenma put his hands on Shoyo’s chest, trying to muster any boldness in his being as he slid them down. “What are you okay with?” He asked timidly.

“Anything. Probably not full-on sex… we are in a closet and probably have like five minutes left,” Shoyo laughed, and Kenma did as well.

“And no condoms,” he added. His hands reached the hem of Shoyo’s shirt, so he slowly slipped his hands up. Shoyo shivered, so he kept his hands low, touching what felt like abs.

“Condoms? You have a va-“ 

“No. It just hurts more… raw.” 

“You’ve done it raw?” 

“No…” Kenma looked down. The skin that Kenma had exposed under his shirt was tanned, making Kenma wonder how often he went out without his shirt. He looked nicely built. He was short but had an athletic build. It made Kenma feel insecure.

“No…?” 

“No.” 

“Damn,” Shoyo whispered with a laugh.

“Damn,” Kenma repeated, his boldness ebbing away as he pulled his hands away and put them back on top of the shirt.

“This is so awkward,” Shoyo laughed, his grip loosening on Kenma’s hips. Kenma wished it didn’t. 

“It is.” 

“We don’t actually have to do anything! Let’s do the good ol’ ruffle up the clothes and pretend like we did it!” Shoyo let go fully and put his arms out. 

Although he now felt alone without the touch, he couldn’t stay upset. Shoyo looked so pleased despite not getting anything. He wasn’t pressuring at all. He wanted Kenma to be comfortable. What a nice guy. 

“I don’t think that’s the name of it,” Kenma leaned away too. His back pressed against the wall properly now. 

“I don’t think it has a name, wanna name it?” Shoyo began ruffling his clothes, and Kenma did the same. 

“Not particularly.”

Once they had successfully ruffled themselves up, Shoyo leaned against the other wall and smiled at Kenma. He hadn’t stopped, it seemed like his resting face was a little grin, and it widened when they made eye contact. “It felt kinda weird doing it in a closet where Atsumu’s weenie was out.” Shoyo hugged himself and fake shivered. “Where his daughter was conceived.”

Kenma kept himself to a little smile. He’d met the girl twice, and she was probably the cutest child he’d met. “Can’t believe such an adorable being came out of that,” Kenma emphasized ‘that’.

Immediately, Shoyo stood straight. “He isn’t that bad!” He insisted, his hands coming out. Kenma found himself shocked. Shoyo had managed to find some genuine goodness in Atsumu Miya? God, Kenma wanted to thank Shoyo’s parents for making him exist.

“If you say so,” He relented, not wanting to discuss such a thing when he couldn’t think right. Nor did he want to dirty Shoyo’s innocent outlook on the guy.

“So, Kenma, you said you played volleyball?” Shoyo asked.

Kenma nodded. “I did in high school. My roommates still play.”

Shoyo brightened again. Did every little thing please this guy? He was like a puppy being shown treats. “Who are your roommates? What position did you play?”

Kenma analyzed Shoyo. A new passion burned in his eyes as he looked at Kenma. His fists were clenched in front of him proudly. 

“Tetsurou Kuroo and Koutaro Bokuto… Kuroo doesn’t play as much as Bokuto because he’s trying to get into med school, but he does go with Bokuto to the...um…” He looked down. What was the name? 

Shoyo picked the sentence up. “Free play! Yeah! I know them!” Shoyo smiled, “Bokuto’s so cool! He’s going into teaching, right?”

Really small world. That made everything much more complicated for Kenma. If he knew Kuroo and Bokuto, and word of this got back to them… he’d be in a world of trouble. He doubted Shoyo would talk much about it… hopefully. 

“Yeah. He wants to be a gym teacher at Fukurodani,” Kenma nodded. He imagined Bokuto challenging his students to a game of volleyball and absolutely demolishing them. He’d called Bokuto stupid for not going pro, but Bokuto insisted this job was ‘calling’ to him. 

“That’s so cool! I’m going the same kind of path, but I think I’m gonna try going pro after I graduate! I just wanna have this stuff under my belt, you know? In case it doesn’t work out!” Shoyo spoke with pride, moving his hands a bit as he explained his path. 

What an interesting guy. He was so short but he was seriously considering going pro. He was doing school, he knew what he was doing with his life. He thought he had the skill to go pro and was certain about it. 

“I want to see you play one day, on the big screen,” Kenma said, tilting his head. He’d realized what he said could have been translated as borderline creepy, but he felt that the alcohol was finally affecting him more. He’d have to get home after this quickly. He didn’t want to be coaxed into drinking more and become a bumbling mess with the Miyas near.

Worried aside, Shoyo stared at him with a blush. His lips slowly twitching into a grin as he processed the words. Kenma wished he were right of mind so he could remember this look perfectly. He wished he could take a picture.

“I… I will! You’ll see me, Kenma!” Shoyo burst out, leaning forward and grabbing onto his shoulders. Kenma smiled back. “But you didn’t answer me. What position did you play?” 

“Right,” Kenma breathes, looking at the hands that gripped him. “Setter. I was a setter for Ne-“ 

“A setter, ahah! So cool! I’m a spiker! That scary-looking guy, Kageyama, he’s a setter too!” He leaned away, and his face drops. “Or… was. He was such a volleyball freak! And super good! He was gonna go pro, but he got seriously hurt, like Oikawa if you know him. Exactly like Oikawa, actually. He was in the hospital for a while… so, now he can’t play, he’s a bartender! I think he and Oikawa fight over who’s better. I think they’re both kinda sticking with that!” Shoyo rambled, barely taking breaths in between. He’d let go of Kenma and was talking with his hands again. He looked happy. Overly happy. Kenma still wished he’d recorded this moment. 

“I’m sorry for him,” Kenma said. Shoyo didn’t look heartbroken.

“I know right? It was bad and he was really broken about it. We should pla-“ 

The song ‘accidentally in love’ by Counting Crows blared louder than it should have, making Shoyo yelp and Kenma wince. Had that been only 7 minutes? Best 7 minutes of his life. 

They left the closet, and Kenma made a show of checking his phone and saying that Kuroo texted him to leave. Atsumu looked at him skeptically, and Shoyo waved him bye which sent him into the stratosphere, and then he left. 

He strangled himself upstairs and waded through the crowd to the front door. Once outside, he finally stood and looked for real at his phone, and grimaced. 1 AM. Kuroo was either going to be pissed, overly proud, or ‘busy’.

—- 

Kenma got home alone, thankfully uninterrupted. He wobbled, surely, and his brain wasn’t completely with it, but he wasn’t gone enough to run back into the party and start stripping on tables. Akaashi would be proud.

He fumbled with the doorknob and stumbled in. He immediately registered the loud sounds of a girl and two guys going at it and controlled the urge to turn and leave immediately. 

The promise he’d made Kuroo that morning resurfaced in his mind and he set an alarm he’d probably regret a tiny bit the next morning.

He got ready silently, listening to the sounds of terrifyingly rough sex as if it were a bad song, and slunk himself to bed. He didn’t understand Kuroo’s logic. Bringing him to a party only to ditch him for a girl. He was thankful though. He got to formally meet Shoyo… Shoyo… fuck. What was his last name? God, he’d just text him… he didn’t have his number. 

Kenma rolled over and screamed into his pillow for not getting the info of his soulmate. He was drunk enough to call Shoyo his soulmate. How was he not? He was literally the sun! Having the sun for a soulmate… what a joke. A really, really good joke.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! I'm so sorry for the wait. It's been hard and I've begun working on two other works that like... comfort me? Mindless fun fics, kinda. My birthday is soon and I just travelled down to South Carolina, and work has been absolutely crushing. But while I was in South Carolina, where the cases of COVID-19 are terribly high, n o b o d y wore a mask. No one! It was fucking insane. We had to buy masks to hand out to people if they wanted to come onto the property. So please, be safe, wear a mask! Oh, and if you're in America, please vote. I know the debate was a shitshow and the tangerine in power currently has COVID, but it is still critical that you vote.
> 
> https://www.usa.gov/register-to-vote
> 
> Here's a link showing you how to register to vote. Please, do so. Thank you~ 
> 
> oh and black lives matter.

Kenma had his back pressed against his door, ear turned and hand resting on the knob. Outside, he heard shuffling and the sound of conversation between two low and gruff voices. His own coffee was warm in his hand, having just finished the deed. He was close to being caught, having just slipped back into his room a second before Kuroo and Bokuto got out. He’d made the coffee in the pot, poured himself a cup, and then shook in a handful of salt for Kuroo to have. The girl had left a few minutes before they woke up. She’d left when he was leaving his room to put his plan into action. 

He listened to the clinking of a mug and then the sound of liquid being poured. He waited a minute, and then he heard the spit take. 

“Fucking shit!”

“What?” 

“This coffee! It’s… It. Kenma. Kenma!” 

Kenma fast-walked to put his cup down on his bedside table and dove under the sheets of his bed, turning over to pretend like he was still asleep.

He heard his door slam open and the sound of footsteps stomping in. Then his blanket was ripped off and he slowly turned his head to look at the angry eyes of Kuroo. 

“Are you serious?” Kuroo grumbling, looking down at Kenma disapprovingly.

“About what, Kuro?” Kenma asked innocently, batting his eyelashes.

Kuroo reached down and took hold of Kenma’s shirt collar. He heaved the half-blond up so he sat straighter, and turned his cup of coffee over on Kenma.

Kenma made a noise akin to a shriek as the overly hot, bitter, and salty liquid was dropped onto his hair and face, splashing down onto the red shirt he had been too drunk to change out of last night. He twisted away from Kuroo, though he overshot and fell straight down onto something soft. He was thankful it wasn’t the floor, but that thankfulness fell short as Kuroo assaulted him again, taking Kenma’s favorite calico themed mug and dumping the overly sugary coffee down on him as well, along with what he learned to be his laundry basket, given a once over. 

He turned back to yell at Kuroo, but the asshole was high-tailing himself out of the room, cackling about his victory. Fucker. 

Kenma slowly pulled himself up, cringing at the smell and feel of clothes sticking to his skin, and his hair clinging to his cheek. The basket popped back into place after being crushed under his ass.

“Son of a bitch...” He whispered, walking to his mini closet and opening it. It was vacant, only some shoes and empty hangers. Had he seriously ran out of clothes? Kuroo’s words from yesterday reminded him of his forgetfulness to do laundry. He still had a load in from a few days ago, but neither Kuroo nor Bokuto would go get it. God, he wished Akaashi was here.

Kenma dejectedly heaved up his laundry basket and continued his crab-like walk out of his room with only socks on his feet, too lazy and too uncomfortable to go through the trouble of shoes. 

Bokuto was stopped at the door, dressed in his morning run clothes and looking overly awake. He was drinking last night! He was up and fucking until at least 2 am! What was wrong with that guy? 

“Oh my god, you actually did it,” Bokuto wheezed, his eyes turning to the kitchen. Kuroo was in the kitchen, hiding behind the refrigerator door. He cackled when he saw Kenma wobbling out of his room. 

This is war.

He pushed past Bokuto rudely and began the trek downstairs. He hoped nobody was awake, it being too early and nobody was crazy enough to get right up and do their laundry.

However, as The Rolling Stones sang, ‘you can't always get what you want.’

Standing at one of the machines was a familiar guy with a puff of orange hair. He was doing a little dance with his head and folding up clothes, placing them in two piles. 

It just had to be him.

Praying to God that Shoyo was too drunk to remember his existence last night, he made his way down the steps as quickly and quietly as he could. He succeeded, wobbling to the washing machine farthest from Shoyo and starting the coffee covered load. He hoped that Shoyo would have finished by the time he was done, but God wasn’t on his side, and the dryer he’d used was two machines away from Shoyo’s. 

He prayed to any God that may have liked him and shuffled to the dryer, keeping his head low as he opened the machine and kneeled down to gather his clothes.

He deduced all Gods hated him.

“Ew, what’s th… Kenma?”

The coffee covered boy slowly turned his head up to meet Shoyo’s eyes. His hair was sticking to his face, so he could only imagine how ratty he looked. “Morning, Shoyo…” He murmured.

Despite Kenma’s awful appearance, the ginger looked extremely happy to be in his presence. His hair was the same cute mess as last night and his cheeks were a rosy red. He was clad in Spongebob Squarepants boxers and a sports jersey from a soccer team. He looked too handsome for a guy folding boxers. 

“I didn’t know you lived here,” he beamed, placing down the boxers to lean against the dryer and look down at Kenma. Kenma was pulling his dry clothes out of his dryer, and wondering if he should start folding them. 

“As expected,” Kenma buried a pair of his boxers under one of his hoodies, “we’ve only had one proper interaction… barely.”

“Yeah! I don’t even think I know your last name.” 

“I don’t know yours either. But everyone just calls me Kenma.”

“That's so cool!” Shoyo said, reaching over and shaking Kenma’s shoulder. Kenma looked up at him again. He had his hand thrust out like he was asking for a handshake. “Well, I’m Shoyo Hinata. Pleased to meet ya! Properly.”

Kenma blushed and stood up. He stared at his hand for a second before placing it in Hinata’s. 

“Kenma Kozume. The pleasure is mutual.”

Shoyo squeezed his hand, sending little shocks up his arm as he shook their hands. His stomach fluttered and his chest warmed with a familiar happiness sparked only by this man.

He felt cold when Shoyo pulled his hand away and continued folding his clothes. “So! Where do you live?” He asked casually, throwing one more glance his way.

Kenma pretended not to be too pleased by it as he began fiddling with his fingers, not wanting to kneel back down again to seem rude. “The third floor,” He answered.

“Wow! Third floor? I’m on the first. You said Kuroo and Bokuto are your roommates, right?”

“And Keiji,” he added. 

“Four people?” Shoyo tilts his head. “Aren’t the upstairs-“ 

“Only for three people? Yes. Kuroo and Bokuto share a room.”

“Oh! Well, I’m roommates with a guy named Tadashi!” 

“Yamaguchi?” 

Hinata gasped, dropping the shirt he was folding and brightened up as he looked at Kenma. “Yes! You know Tadashi too?” 

“Barely,” he answered quickly, surprised by his enthusiasm. He slowly kneeled back down to get the rest of his clothes out of the dryer, realizing it’s was weirder to just stand there. “Kuroo’s friends with Tsukishima and Tadashi comes over with him sometimes… he plays a mean game of Sims 4.” 

Tadashi had been over a total of three times. Two of those times, Kuroo had pushed the two together to do something-anything- and so Kenma had awkwardly showed the game to him. He’d never seen someone make a Sims family so extravagant and successful so quickly with no cheats at all.

Hinata laughed a loud happy laugh, and wrapped his arms around his basket, placing his cheek on the rim. “Doesn’t he? Tstingyshima lives across from us with Kageyama.”

Kenma smiled at the name and stood up with his laundry basket, awkwardly shifting on his feet before walking towards the door. He felt a little bad, just leaving without a proper goodbye, but his brain was exploding with sparks from that handshake. He wanted to lay in his bed and scream like a little girl about it. 

“Kenma?” Kenma stopped and turned around. He was happy he was being called for. 

“Yes, Shoyo?” 

Shoyo looked him up and down, and Kenma felt his heart stutter. His look lingered on his chest, and then rose to his head, then back to his eyes. 

“Why are you covered in coffee?” 

Kenma blushed, now aware again of his state. The sticky feeling of coffee on his skin, stained clothes sticking to him, the damn stench.

“Um,” He released his hamper with one hand and wiped away a piece of hair clinging to his cheek, “Kuroo assaulted me.” 

“Why?” Shoyo tilted his head like a puppy, narrowing his eyes. 

“I put salt in his coffee…” He answered slowly.

Shoyo’s eyes crinkled, and he smiled. “Why?” He asked slowly. 

Kenma laughed to himself and looked at his basket. He noticed a pair of underwear sticking out from under a shirt and hoped Shoyo didn’t see it. “He came home with a girl and was loud about it… I warned him what would happen, to be fair,” Kenma looked back up to gauge Shoyo’s disappointment, but instead, he was standing with a pleased, maybe proud, expression.

“That’s funny. I like you Kenma!” He lifted his own hamper, now all of the clothes back inside, and walked up to him. “Are you going? I’ll come! Can I get your number?” 

Kenma’s face burst into a blush that he had to hide by turning his face away. ‘I like you Kenma!’ echoed in his brain, weaving through the pathways in his mind to settle into the forefront of his brain. ‘I like you Kenma!’

Kenma nodded stiffly as Shoyo took the lead, continuing to hum his tune as he walked down the hall with a bounce in his step. Kenma counted the doors. 

9… 7…5- 

Shoyo stopped abruptly in front of five and smashed his fist on the door so hard Kenma was sure it would break. He winced at the loudness and looked around, scared someone would come out to accost them for the noise, but only door five opened. 

Tsukishima stood looking sleepy, dressed in dinosaur printed pajamas. He eyed the basket, and then reached forward and took it. He nodded at Kenma, and then shut the door in Shoyo’s face. Kenma would have taken offense to such a rude action, but Shoyo only smiled a little wider and bounced right up to Kenma. He now had a phone in his hand, an otter box case that Kenma had noticed on top of the laundry he had piled and was opening it up. 

“What’s your number?” He asked. He typed in the digits Kenma told him, and then smiled. He turned the phone at him and showed him the contact information. “This right?” 

Kenma reviewed the number and nodded, his eyes wandering to what he had been named. He snickered. “Pudding?” He smiled. Yamamoto used to tease him with the name when his roots started showing at first, but he hadn’t been called Pudding since it grew almost to his shoulders and was more black at the top than brown. 

“Pudding!” Shoyo affirmed, “your hair kinda looks like pudding and you’re really sweet. Like pudding!” Shoyo exclaimed, balling his hands into fists before walking towards the door parallel to 5. “I’ll see you around, Puddin!” He called before opening up to Apartment 4 and walking in.

Kenma watched the door until it closed, and promptly shoved his face into his pile of laundry and screamed. That warm feeling coiled more intensely through his systems, lifting him to make him feel like he was walking on air. 

He walked in a trancelike state back to his apartment, smiling so hard it made his cheeks hurt. Pudding. ‘I like you Kenma!’ He repeated those words, in the exact tone Shoyo had, like a mantra, over and over again. He wanted to see him again. 

\---

“Oh fuck!” 

“Don’t touch that!” 

Smash.

Kenma jolted up in his bed at the sound of commotion outside his door. He quickly sat up and ran through the bathroom into the living room. 

Bokuto was stamping out a charred teddy bear and Kuroo was disappearing out the door. He left it open when he exited. He noticed the window of the living room was completely shattered, glass littering the couch under it and the TV was down on the ground. The cable box was gone.

God, Akaashi was going to have a field day with this. 

“What happened?” Kenma asked slowly, stepping fully into the living room and next to Bokuto. 

Bokuto stepped back and looked at Kenma fearfully. “I was- my mama- she’s coming today! I got her this!” He pointed at the sad excuse of a teddy bear, “and I put it down! Not thinking! And then it was on fire! So I picked up the box and Kuroo said not to pick it up so I panicked and threw it!” Bokuto finished his breathless rant and then inhaled sharply. He held his breath for maybe a second before he burst into tears, grabbing onto Kenma and sobbing onto his head. 

Kenma awkwardly patted Bokuto’s back. His arms were tightly wrapped around Kenma’s shoulders, holding him so tightly that he felt like he was about to pop. 

Bokuto still had his ‘moments’. They were rarer now he was an adult, but certainly more controlled than when he was in high school. He usually snapped out of them himself after a quick cry or a distraction, and fewer things brought him down. With Akaashi, the episodes ended almost as quickly as they started. Contrary to what a lot of people believed, Kenma was good at dealing with peoples’ emotions- he could listen and comfort well enough. From a distance. Certainly not a bone-crushing hug that limited his breathing.

Bokuto straightened his posture, lifting Kenma into the air by an inch. He hung there, held up by nothing but Bokuto’s beefy biceps. He felt a little exposed, hanging in the air in front of his wide-open front door wearing nothing but boxers and Kuroo’s old shirt. 

Speaking of Kuroo, he returned at the door, leaning on the threshold. “No harm, no foul, nobody saw that makeshift Molotov cocktail of yours and it didn’t light anything on fire! I think that’s a win, so- oh. Oh, Bo.”

Kuroo moved away from the door and began a fast walk to where Bokuto was holding Kenma. Bokuto still was wailing as Kuroo tried to comfort him. 

“Alright, alright Bo, it isn’t your fault! It-“

“Kuroo?” 

Almost comically, Kuroo’s expression dropped from caring to annoyed. Bokuto’s wailing came to a stop. Kenma’s expression dropped upon seeing Daishou Suguru standing at their doorway, looking amused. 

“Hey,” Kuroo answered, turning on his heel to face Daishou. Kenma could only see the back of Kuroo’s head, but he could feel the hate for this guy rolling off in waves. “Daishou! What’s up, buddy?” 

“Was that you?” Daishou asked, completely ignoring Kuroo’s attempt at a civil conversation. He invited himself in and sauntered up beside Kuroo. He spent a second observing the shattered remains of the window before scoffing. “Good god, it was. Can’t keep anything together, can you? You break everything you touch!” 

Kuroo turned to look at the window with Daishou and sighed, putting his hands up and shaking his head. “Guilty as charged… It’s hard, ya know? That window broke just like your mom’s hymen against my cock.” With his words, he made slow motions of grabbing hips and thrusting forward.

Daishou made a strangled noise, stepping back and grabbing his chest in shock. “You… you vile piece of shit!” He yelled, “what the hell happened to make you so shitty?” 

Kuroo stopped his thrusting and shrugged, a lazy smirk now taking the spot of his fake ashamed one. “Mommy issues,” He said nonchalantly, “lost my mom, so I took yours. That pussy was bomb.”

“You dick!” Daishou yelled, “you absolute dick! Who gives you the fucking right to talk that shit?” 

“Clearly not my mother,” Kuroo snorted.

Daishou’s mouth hung open, his jaw shaking like he was trying to find something to say that just wouldn’t come. He was practically shaking with anger, eyes wide and looking up at Kuroo like he’d personally wronged him- which he had. Finally, he looked at his hand and poked it at Kuroo, “You will never make it as a doctor with that mouth!” 

“Watch me, kitten,” Kuroo said in a challenging tone, cocking his eyebrow and drawing out the nickname.

Daishou made another horrified noise. “Kitten?” He said, his voice trembling, “kitten? Kitten! Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, you goddamn asshole! I will have your whole fucking d-“

“Daishou?” 

The threat he was about to say fell short as his expression became horrified. His mouth shut slowly, pointing a death glare Kuroo’s way before he turned around again to the third person who had now shown up. 

Kenma felt much more exposed now that a girl stood at their doorway, her arms crossed and looking annoyed at her boyfriend. Mika wore pink pajama pants that matched the green ones Daishou was wearing, little cartoon sheep all over. 

“Darling,” Daishou responded in a much softer tone, beginning to walk over to her. “I didn’t mean to-“

“What did I tell you about picking fights with Kuroo?” She chided, taking Daishou’s hand softly in hers, looking at him with an accusatory gaze. 

“I know, sweetie…” 

“Now apologize,” She demanded.

His shoulders slumped but her expression didn’t waver. He finally sighed and turned back to Kuroo. Slowly, he bowed his head. “I… am… sorry,” He said stiffly as if it hurt him to say.

Kuroo tutted and put his hand up. “Oh, it’s fine, kitten,” He accepted, waving to the two. 

Mika looked pleased, patting her boyfriend’s shoulder and tugging his hand. “Thank you, Kuroo. We’ll see you!” 

“Oh I know, babe,” He winked as they left, Daishou holding his hand back with his middle finger extended. Kuroo walked behind them up to the door, and then finally shut it. He turned towards his two roommates and put his arms out, “how was that?” 

Kenma just rolled his eyes. Bokuto had put him down- more, dropped him- to watch what was going on between the two more closely. Daishou and Kuroo had a rivalry going in their classes. They had been put in all the same ones and butted heads, both striving to be top students. The cherry on the cake was that they were both trying to get into the same medical school. Daishou didn’t sit well with Kenma either, finding himself sometimes sending bitchy remarks his way when he could. Kuroo and him took great pleasure in ridiculing Daishou together.

“It was awesome!” Bokuto cheered animatedly, bouncing to Kuroo and catching him in a very bro-like hug. His emo mode was shut off and his regrets about the window and teddy were gone through the said broken window. 

The two bro’d out for a minute, talking about how Kuroo ‘owned’ Daishou. Kenma ended the stupidity once he’d grown bored. 

“What are we going to do about the window?” 

Kuroo whistled and pulled away from Bokuto. He put his hands on his hips, before he snapped, putting his finger up in an ‘ah-ha!’ motion. “I’ll call the window people. Bo, go call your mom and take her somewhere nice, not here,” he ordered. The owl-like man nodded promptly, saluting Kuroo like a soldier before bouncing off to their room.

“We also need a new cable box,” Kenma said, pushing the face-down TV up to see the front. It was perfectly intact, surprisingly, so he picked it up with a small struggle and sat it where it usually was.

Kuroo cursed. “Yeah. Can you go get that kitten?” He asked, picking his phone up. “I have work today and I’m going to dinner with Yaku after.”

“But those boxes are heavy,” he complained.

“They’re like 15 pounds, Kenma,” Kuroo said, squinting. 

“15 pounds is a lot, Kuro.”

Kuroo deadpanned at Kenma, who stared back with the same matter-of-fact expression. Their staring contest lasted a minute before Kuroo let up, sighing. “Then… bring a friend!” Kuroo’s expression picked up a smile again, “I’ll get Osamu to go with you.”

Kenma rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he shrugged, “fine.” 

Now knowing he had to get out, Kenma pulled the collar of his shirt forward and sniffed inside. He recoiled quickly, scrunching his nose. When was the last time he showered? Did he even bathe after the coffee incident?

Kenma opted to shower. He picked out a good enough outfit before sliding into the bathroom. He locked the door that led into the living room, started the water, stripped down, and got in. 

The smell was not pleasant. He loaded shampoo onto his hands and ran his fingers through it thoroughly. He massaged his skull, pulled at knots and mats, trying to rid himself of the dairy scent and replace it with Kuroo’s needlessly manly shampoo’s cinnamony scent. 

His mind wandered back to the whole coffee incident and what happened in the laundry room. How Shoyo had the displeasure of seeing him like that, yet still was so happy looking upon him. He hadn’t received a text from Shoyo yet, which made him half regret not getting his number, but also thankful that he didn’t have to start it. Shoyo Hinata. He looked up his name, knowing he’d heard it before, and found a few articles dating back a few years about the rise of a volleyball team thanks to a spectacular setter and a small kids quicks- that small kid being Shoyo. There weren’t many articles since it was a small town and was only high school volleyball. It was still cool, nonetheless. He found that his name meant ‘sunny place’ when looking through a few more sites. It fit perfectly. Kenma had even recalled his dream about Shoyo being a nameless sun god. 

Kenma smiled at the memory, leaning his head back to wash the suds off his face. He hoped Shoyo didn’t forget about him. 

Kenma rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and began conditioning. He was ripping apart a knot when the curtain suddenly opened. He screamed. 

“Calm down, it’s just me,” Kuroo said, smirking like an asshole. 

Kenma pulled the curtain over his dick, face flushed. “Do you have to look at me?” 

“Yes. You need to eat more. I can see your ribs,” Kuroo reached forward and pinched Kenma’s stomach, to which Kenma smacked him away. Kuroo drew back, still smiling. “Alright, alright. You still need to get that box today, okay? The window guy will be here tomorrow before Akaashi gets home. His name’s Aone. You just gotta pay him.” 

“Okay,” Kenma said slowly. 

Kuroo grinned. “And ‘Samu’s coming at noon to get you. I left some money for you… you should get some lunch… come back after… Nobody will be home,” He said suggestively, winking. Kenma screwed his nose up at him. 

“Are you trying to set me up with Osamu?” He asked incredulously. It shocked him. Kuroo didn’t even have a clue that he liked boys. Why suddenly put- Akaashi. Asshole. 

“I mean-“

“I don’t like Osamu, Kuro,” He sighed, fully shutting the curtain now. It was getting too cold.

“Damn. So, no lunch money then?”

“No… leave the lunch money.” 

Kuroo laughed from the other side of the curtain, sounding further away. “Alright kitten, you’re gonna tell me who you’re fucking though, right?” 

“Lady Gaga, it’s kinda a bad romance, but she’s flexible as shit.”

“You fucker,” Kuroo laughed again as he exited, the door closing and muffling his laughter.

—-

“Hey,” Osamu put his left hand up in greeting.

“Hey,” Kenma nodded.

“Hey,” Atsumu’s head popped out from behind Osamu’s head, waving his right hand over Osamu’s right shoulder. 

Kenma squinted at him, a new feeling of dread suddenly settling in his stomach. “I only heard that Osamu was coming,” He looked between the two twins, his urge to retreat into his room strengthening.

“And I heard lunch was involved,” Atsumu looked past Kenma into his apartment, “Kuroo said you gotta eat more and Osamu isn’t the type to be pushy.”

“Of course Kuro said that,” Kenma grumbled as he slipped out, closing his apartment door and locking it.

“He can be very wise,” One of the Twins added. 

“Tch.” Kenma rolled his eyes and stepped between the twins, walking for the stairs and letting the two follow him. “So, where are we going? I’m sure you’ve chosen.” 

They both said the name of a restaurant near the tech store, so they went. Atsumu ordered for him, getting way too much. When the food was placed in front of him, his stomach quivered in fear. 

“I’m going to die,” He said, poking a piece of meat that stared at him intimidatingly. “Why couldn’t I just have gotten sushi?” 

“Just sushi? God, it’s worse than I thought,” Atsumu reached over and poked him with his chopsticks, “You’re gonna wanna build something muscle for that girl you like.”

Kenma raised his eyes at the twins, both of them looking smug now. They must have been in on the bet too. He took his chopsticks from Atsumu and began eating.

“Is that avoidance?” Osamu asked.

“That’s avoidance. Are you embarrassed? Don’t worry, I’m sure she’d like you how you are buddy,” Atsumu smiled lopsidedly. 

Kenma said jibberish through a mouthful of food.

“Mhm, yeah, she’s pretty,” Osamu hummed. 

“What’s her name again Ken?” Atsumu cocked his head as Osamu started mumbling letters and beginnings of feminine names. 

He saw what they were doing, sly fucks. If he did like a girl, he’d probably be mentally panicking at the moment. If they had just changed the gender and pronouns, he’d be a bright red mess, buried in his arms. Instead, he just shoved his face with every bit of food Atsumu bought him. 

Their teasing had ended midway through the lunch, both realizing they’d get nothing in the way they were trying. 

They left the restaurant and Kenma was regretting his choice of skinny jeans. He felt too full for comfort, although his pockets certainly were the opposite of full. 

“That was good,” Osamu said happily as they entered the mall the tech store was in.

“Real good. Thanks for the food, Kenken,” Atsumu bumped his elbow against Kenma’s bicep. 

“I just gained 10 more pounds,” He said, looking up accusatorily at Atsumu.

“How much did you weigh before this?” Osamu asked.

“130,” He answered, sparking both of them to begin laughing. His face went a little red. “I’m younger than both of you.” 

“By 11 days!” Atsumu cackled, “I’m almost 180!” He hit Kenma’s back, forcing the smaller male to stumble forward with the force.

“You’re also 6’2”,” Kenma pointed out.

“Look, we’re here. So we can get that 10 pounds too heavy cable box I can carry for you,” Osamu nodded at the entrance of the tech store before leading them into it. 

“I didn’t sign up to get bullied.”

The twins both snickered and kept picking on him all the way to get the box, through paying for it, and out the store. He was almost ready to take the box and leave alone when Atsumu stopped in front of a comic book shop. “Hold on, I wanna get somethin’ here,” He said, turning into the shop. Kenma and Osamu both followed. Atsumu and Osamu browsed through, Kenma just kinda stood behind Osamu since he had the cable box.

At the back of the store, with the older comics and magazines, Osamu seemed to find something intriguing to him. “Hm... what’s this?” He said, shifting the box into one arm and grabbing something. He held it out, and Kenma’s face immediately burst into a red mess. 

A scantily clad woman was on the front of the magazine wearing red lingerie. Her nipples were visible and her hand was covering her lower parts. He gulped a lump in his throat and looked up. “You know what that is,” he said.

Atsumu came up behind him and whistled. “Man, she’s somethin’,” He said, leaning on Kenma. “Imagine your girl wearing something like that?”

An image of Shoyo wearing the set the woman on the front was wearing crossed his mind. He felt his face heat a little- it surely looked a little silly, but he liked red, and she was naked underneath it, so the same would be said for Shoyo. His lil’ Shoyo covered in red, see-through fabric… he instantly felt wrong. And sick. But very happy. Kenma covered his blush with his hand. He was happy he wore a long shirt, but once again, hating his choice of pants.

“Oh, he likes it,” Atsumu teased, “want me to buy it for you?” 

Kenma said no. Multiple times. Atsumu, of course, didn’t listen and brought the porn magazine up to the front along with two superhero comics. 

At home, he hid the magazine under his mattress for fear of more teasing from anyone. God.. he had work today. Lev… yeah. He wanted to go home with Lev again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nice words and support I get from y'all fuckin hurts y'know, you're so cool. 
> 
> Another cool thing is voting. If you're of age, you should totally go vote. Vote blue. If you vote for that fucking cheeto I don't want some fuckwad bigot reading my shit, so if that's you, go fuck yourself. You're not welcome. But to the rest of you <3 love y'all, please vote, babes.
> 
> https://www.usa.gov/how-to-vote look at this if you're not sure how to vote.
> 
> ALSO SUGGESTIVE/SEX CONTENT ITS NOT LONG BUT IT'S RIGHT THERE

As much as Kenma truly loved being face down into Lev’s sheets after a stressful day, he hated how loud everything was around the apartment. The busy streets could be heard, the sound of people walking in the apartment above them from time to time, the occasional very loud child running through the halls. He’d gotten used to it and learned to write it all off as pretty much nothing, so it didn’t bother him when he heard a door clicking open. Lev didn’t seem to notice or care about it either, so Kenma let himself continue drowning in the painful pleasure Lev was giving to him.

Lev was bent over him, his long body easily allowing him to kiss Kenma’s shoulder while taking him. One of his big hands was holding a fistful of hair, pressing his face into the bed and his other arm was snaked around Kenma’s hips, hand wrapped around his cock and barely rubbing it, too enraptured in what he was doing. Kenma had no complaints. He was doing it hard, overly rough, and in a way that would have him down for the count for a while once they were done. He could sleep it off and not think too hard about how Shoyo would look really good in red lingerie and the fact Shoyo still hadn’t texted him back. Lev could just replace it with pain and he’d be fine.

Speaking of pain, he didn’t feel enough. He writhed under Lev and put a shaky hand on Lev’s, the one that was now just holding his dick in place. He wantonly groaned his name, spurring the man above him. He took Kenma’s wrist and brought it above his head, holding him down and leaning on him for support as he went harder, a little faster. It hurt, really hurt, but his mind was swimming with the mixed sinful emotions, which made him not realize the second sound of a door opening, too close for comfort. He only fully became aware of the opened door when the sound of its opening was followed by the sound of something hitting the hard floor. 

They both freaked the fuck out.

“Lev, is that- Kenma. Kenma, holy shit-“ 

Kenma had pushed Lev away and hogged the blanket, covering himself and staring at the man at the door. Inuoka had one hand over his eyes with two fingers very noticeably parted and his other hand clutching his chest. It just had to be him. 

“So, So I am so so so sorry, So!” Lev sat back on his knees, a part of the blanket covering his modesty and his other hand over his nipples. “Why didn’t you knock?” 

“I knocked a few times on the front door! And then I thought you were dying in here so I just burst in!” 

“Knock louder!” Kenma cut in, rolling himself over and clutching the blanket tighter. 

“I’m sorry!” Inuoka apologized, bowing his head. 

“It’s my fault,” Lev said suddenly, making a hand motion for Inuoka to straighten. “You didn’t let Kuroo or Yaku in, right?”

“Kuroo or Yaku?” Kenma snapped his head towards Lev.

“No!” Inuoka quickly said, calming Kenma a little. “They’re outside. They said that if you don’t want them to bully you into buying their dinner, then they should stay outside.” 

“Can you guys fill me in?” 

Lev looked to Kenma and breathed. “Um, Inuoka and I and them are going to dinner together! It’s the dinner you declined going to a few days ago,” He explained, looking from Inuoka to Kenma. “I forgot it was today…”

“You’re such an idiot, Lev,” Kenma grumbled, making the Russian sputter an apology. Kenma ignored him, turning to Inuoka. “You, Inuoka, never saw me. Never saw this. None of it!” 

Inuoka gulped visibly and put his thumb up. “Your secret’s safe with me, Ken!” He assured, making Kenma’s shoulders drop with a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks,” He allowed himself to smile at Inuoka, making Lev chortle out another displeased noise. “Do you mind stepping out so..” 

Inuoka seemed to realize their state of nakedness again and blushed. “Yeah! Just,” He leaned down and picked up an Amazon box, “for you…” He disappeared out the door and shut it. 

Lev wasted no time in jumping off the bed and bowing fully at Kenma. “I’m so sorry!” He apologized, “I totally forgot! It won’t happen again!”

Kenma rolled his eyes at Lev’s dramatic apology and shifted himself so that his legs were off the side of the bed. “It’s fine. I’ll clean up and I’ll leave. How long will you be?” 

Lev stood straight and began running around the room, grabbing his boxers and bouncing into them. “A couple of hours,” He crossed his room to his closet and pulled out an outfit that looked like it was prepared beforehand, “You’re free to stay!”

“No. Knowing Kuroo and Yaku, they’ll ask to come in for a drink and then go around the house and bitch at you for how clean or not clean it is. I’ll get a ride back home,” Kenma said. He stood up, his legs shaking only a little as he moved to get dressed. They hadn’t been going for long, sadly, and thankfully, he hadn’t been wrecked enough to not be able to walk. He was just slightly uncomfortable. 

“I’ll give you money for an Uber,” Lev said, pausing his shirt buttoning to reach into a drawer and throw his wallet at Kenma. He continued without looking at Kenma.

“Thanks,” He said, opening it and flipping through the amount he had in there. He sneaked a look at Lev and slid out two hundred dollar bills out of the 9 he had in there. Seriously, what idiot keeps over 900 dollars on his person? He took out a twenty for the Uber. 

“Take as much as you want- that’s my backup wallet. I’ll just refill it.”

Kenma wanted to punch him. 

Lev was born kind of wealthy and got a job as a model after he was scouted at 17. He worked at the restaurant simply because he had too much time on his hands and it made him a ‘better person’ and a ‘hard worker’. Fucking rich hoe.

Lev was tucking in his shirt and making his way to the door. “Lock the door on your way out! Good luck with that boy!” 

“Thank you,” Kenma waved and Lev left, just as he was wiggling back into his pants. 

He stood for a moment, listening as Inuoka and Lev left together. When the door clicked shut, he let out a breath. He sat back down on the bed and took his phone off the nightstand, opening it up to see if he missed anything. And he did. 7 messages were sent from an unknown number about 30 minutes ago. An excited little feeling wiggled it’s way into his tummy as he opened it. 

xxx-xxx-xxxx  
10:03 pm: Hi!   
10:03 pm: srry I took so long   
10:04 pm: It’s Shoyo!  
10:04 pm: Hinata!   
10:04 pm: call me whatever :D  
10:04 pm: I had work and then I fell asleep and then I forgot 2 text u I’m sorry!  
10:04 pm: also srry 4 the spam :P

Kenma’s lips trembled into a little grin as he read over the messages. So he did forget… but not on the way Kenma expected. He made Shoyo’s number into a contact before replying.

Kenma  
10:35 pm: hey. sorry I took so long, I just finished work too. I went to a friend’s house and now I gotta get a ride back home. I’ll either text a lot or not at all

He clicked his phone shut, expecting Shoyo to not respond until tomorrow or take a while. But his phone vibrated with a reply almost instantly.

Shoyo:  
10:36 pm: I’m heading home 2! I can give u a ride!   
10:36 pm: I hope tjay doesn’t sound creepy   
10:36 pm: That  
10:36 pm: Autocorrect is stupid >:c

Kenma  
10:37 pm: you’re not texting and driving, are you?

Shoyo  
10:37 pm: No!!!!!! It’s an Uber!

Kenma  
10:37 pm: well I’d love to take up that offer but I’ll be a little while, I need like 20 minutes before I can leave

Shoyo  
10:38 pm: I’m a town over, it's a long ride, I can get u! I don’t mind! Just tell me the address and I’ll b there!

Kenma’s hopeful-not-hopeful theory that Shoyo was an awful, mean, and thoughtless guy was dying quickly in his mind. He showed such genuine concern and a need to help that it completely boggled Kenma. He was aware that this could be a ploy to get Kenma alone and kill him, but oh well. Dying by a hot ginger didn’t sound like such a bad way to go- maybe he’d even become an unsolved case and be apart of BuzzFeed unsolved 

Kenma sent the address of the apartment, to which Shoyo responded with an enthusiastic smiley face, effectively killing Kenma’s heart. 

Kenma slipped his phone into his pocket, now realizing he had to work quickly to be done. He switched out Lev’s sheets, throwing them in the washing machine he kept in his apartment-rich cunt- and cleaned up the clothes Lev had left on the ground. He then made his way to the bathroom, washed his hands, and looked in the mirror. He cringed. 

As he had expected, his hair had been effectively knotted into very obvious after-sex hair, the look being amplified by his puffy red lips. He had small hickies running down his neck that were too high to be covered by his shirt and he damned Lev. He’d told him multiple times that if he wanted to leave marks either a.) don’t. b.) put them places that can’t be seen or c.) get him makeup. Of course, the idiot did none of these things, so he’d have to suffer with missing a hoodie. The hoods of his were always so puffy and usually did the trick. 

He pulled his hair back in an elastic to hide the mess that was his hair and finished up in the bathroom. He went into Lev’s closet and stole a hoodie, another hundred bucks, and opened his phone again. Shoyo had sent a message a minute ago. Fuck.

He didn’t open it, grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment- not locking the door because fuck you, Lev- and used the elevator to get down to the first floor. He got out the door and saw Shoyo’s head peeking out the back window of a car. 

He walked towards the Uber and Shoyo looked up. He waved excitedly and his door opened. He bounced over, giving Kenma the room to slip in. He shut the door and looked back to Shoyo, who was saying the new address to the driver. He finished and then turned to Kenma with a blinding smile. 

“Hi,” Kenma greeted.

“Hi!” Shoyo replied.

Kenma looked over his body as the Uber began to move. He wore a teal-colored shirt and heavy pants with suspenders that blocked lettering on his left breast. His face was a little dirty, which made Kenma wonder what he did. 

“Thanks for getting me,” Kenma said, reaching for the money he had taken from Lev, “how much is it? I’ll pay.”

Shoyo laughed and waved his hand dismissively, “I got it! No worries!” 

“You sure? It has to be a lot.”

“It’s not!” Shoyo assures, “promise. I will take a different kind of payment…” he looked on his lap, pursing his lips. 

Kenma’s heart stuttered. “What… what do you mean?” 

Hinata looked up quickly with an innocent smile, “20 questions! Or… five questions. Since we aren’t that far..” 

“Oh,” Kenma didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “Um…” He now pondered the game. He felt bad not paying, but he figured if he didn’t it would be a win-win. He’d learn more about Shoyo and have an excuse to spoil him later on for this. “Okay.” 

Shoyo cheered to his agreement, shaking his fist a little. “Alright! Let’s not repeat questions, okay? It just gets boring that way. I’ll go first!” Shoyo looked at Kenma for any reply and then went on with his question. “What do you work as?” 

“I’m a waiter at Shohei’s,” Kenma said simply. It was boring, and he wanted to move on, but Shoyo already seemed hung up on it, beaming more as he leaned closer. 

“I love that place! It’s so fancy!” He cheered, “When do you work? I want you to serve me!” 

Kenma put his hand up like a stop sign, saving a little blush that meandered its way across his cheeks. “I think it’s my turn to ask the questions, Sho.”

Shoyo leaned back, but his excitement didn’t falter. “Fine!” He relented, saying it quickly, probably eager to get his answer. 

Kenma couldn’t help but compare him to Bokuto. The same excitement, the same beaming smile, the same magnetic personality- just Shoyo never seemed to have dips. Just constant happiness with occasional (often) spikes. 

Kenma looked down at Shoyo’s feet, the big white shoes he wore, and hummed. “How tall are you?” He decided, looking up to Shoyo. 

Shoyo’s face did switch away from the excitement. He looked at him with a ‘really?’ kind of expression, before huffing and said, surprisingly proudly, “I’m 5’7.2”!” 

Kenma smiled. Shoyo had him beat by only a little bit. Kenma hadn’t grown all that much since high school. His growth spurt came when he was young, in the fifth grade he’d gone from 4’5” to 5’3” in a month. He’d then reached 5’6” by the last year of junior high and remained around the same height since. He didn’t count decimals, but last he checked he was still 5’6”. 

Shoyo didn’t stay on the topic, quickly asking his questions. “What days do you work?” He asked, brightening. 

“Sundays through Thursdays,” He answered. 

“Noted! I’m so going there!” 

“I’ll look forward to serving you,” Kenma nodded, looking now at his hands. He had so many questions, not enough time and he didn’t want to be creepy. So, he went with something simple. “When is your birthday?” 

“June 21st!” Shoyo declared like he was proud of the date. As expected, a summer date. “Do you have any talents?”

Kenma had to think. He didn’t want to say video games. It felt a little lame. If it was Kuroo asking, he would probably proudly say video games but he wanted to impress Shoyo with something he could do, something he produced. Not something made by someone else that he could only control. It popped into his mind, and his face pinkened. “Well… I sing I guess, but I get nervous,” He laughed at himself, keeping his eyes down. “I usually can’t sing in front of people… sober. Give me a few drinks though and I’ll kill karaoke night.” He glanced over to gauge Shoyo’s reactions and internally gushed. He looked overly impressed, his eyes wide and he was almost shaking. 

“That’s so cool! I’m so taking you to karaoke! I can’t drink yet, so I’ll be the best designated driver! And impressed!” 

“What were you drinking at the party?” Kenma asked before he could stop himself. Shit! He could have used that question so much better. 

Shoyo didn’t seem to notice Kenma’s mental fight with himself, chuckling and leaning back. “Coca-cola! That’s why I had my own can. Kageyama was drinking though because he’s stupid,” Shoyo rolled his eyes as if he was talking directly to the ravenette, but ended the roll with a soft smile. “This… is my fifth question. So, I’m gonna use it good!” Shoyo looked downwards shyly, his hands coming together to play with each other. It was cute. “Do you want to come play volleyball with me and my friends on Friday? We don’t have a second setter, so if you’re not too busy…” 

Kenma felt fireworks bursting in his chest. Shoyo’s expression, for one, was killing him. He was adorable and so sincere. He hadn’t played since high school, but maybe setting was like riding a bike. He could try to practice over the week- there had to be a volleyball somewhere in his apartment. 

The Uber began slowing and he could see their apartment building coming into view. He still had one question left… he smiled a little. 

“What time will you pick me up?” 

The car stopped, and at the same time, Shoyo called a loud, “yes!” startling both Kenma and the driver. He apologized before crawling out of the cab, and Kenma did after him. He figured Shoyo already paid for the ride. 

“I’ll pick you up at 4:00, okay? Does that work?” Shoyo opened the door to their apartment, allowing a Kenma to walk in before him. 

“Perfectly,” Kenma answered, stopping at the railing of the stairs. Shoyo walked a little further, slower and backward. 

“Alright!” He smiled, his hands coming up to shoot finger guns. “I’ll see you then! Or before then. Hopefully before then... I’ll text you!” 

“I’ll be looking forward to it… sleep good, Shoyo. And watch out for the wall.” 

“What w-“ Shoyo’s back hit the wall dividing the apartments from the stairs and he laughed. “Oh, that wall.”

Kenma chuckled along with him, placing his foot on the first step. 

“Sleep too Kenma!” Shoyo turned around and opened the door, shooting one last finger gun before disappearing down the hall. 

Kenma watched him go through the mini window with an uncontrolled smile. He squeezed the banister before finally heading up, ignoring the pain sparked with each step. He was just so damn happy. He was going to see Shoyo again- Shoyo had invited him somewhere! Man… he was going to take a bath. He so deserved it.

—-

Kenma had immersed himself in a hot bath, so hot the water steamed and turned his skin an angry red. Exactly how he liked it. He’d added bubbles, special scents, the whole shebang. A quiet song played from his phone, which was in his hands as he absolutely demolished everything in Crashy cats. Life was good. 

“Hey, Kitten!” The door to the bathroom opened. 

Life was not good. 

Kenma made an annoyed grunt and leaned his arms and head out of his tub. Kuroo stood, looking down at him with a foolish grin. “A bath and a shower today? What’s going on with you?” He moved further into the bathroom.

“Felt like I deserved it,” He answered simply, trying to make it evident he wanted this to be over as quickly as possible by turning his phone on and resuming his game. He found that course of action to be a mistake as Kuroo reached forward and stole the device right from his hands. 

Kenma went to protest, but Kuroo held up his hand and was tucking his phone into his pocket. “Bath time’s up! Yaku wants to see you,” He moved more towards the door. 

Kenma grumbled a curse under his breath and slipped back into his bath. He didn’t say anything, instead just reclining himself back in the tub. He could do without his game. Just-

“And he’s drunk. I won’t stop him if he breaks in and starts making fun of your three-inch-four-at-best-er.”

“You’re an asshole,” Kenma leaned forward and pushed up the drain as Kuroo cackled. He was wrong- not by much- but still wrong and still assholey. 

—-

“Kenkenkenkenken!” Yaku’s very drunk and overly excited voice wormed into Kenma’s ears. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” He bounced over to the half-blond who had emerged from his room, and immediately captured the taller man in a hug. 

“Two days isn’t forever,” Kenma responded, awkwardly patting Yaku’s hip. 

Yaku gasped and pulled away. “It is forever!” He declared and narrowed his eyes up at Kenma. He stared for 15 and a half seconds-he counted- before his concentrated look broke and he giggled. “You need a touch-up.” 

“I like it how it is, thanks though.”

Yaku’s smile broke into an angry pout, but he seemed to shrug it off, spinning on his heel and walking towards the couch where Kuroo was sitting. Kenma followed him further down the hall and noticed Bokuto in the kitchen. He was cooking, looking lively as ever, humming an upbeat tune and dancing with the clinking of silver against silver. He must have just gotten home, like Kenma. 

“By the way, what happened to the window?” Yaku slurred as he finally wobbled his way to the couch where Kuroo was, throwing himself down between the larger man’s legs and throwing his head back on his chest. Kuroo didn’t protest, just let him snuggle between his thighs without even a ‘no homo’

“Bokuto threw a cable box through it,” Kuroo said, saying it like it was an everyday occurrence.

“Ohh... Keiji’s gonna be,” He put two fingers on Kuroo’s chest and walked them upwards, “M-A-D,” he stopped and bopped Kuroo’s nose, “pissed!” 

“Yeah, he sure is gonna be M-A-D pissed,” Kuroo agreed. To the agreement, Yaku smiled and mumbled something Kenma couldn’t hear as he laid his head on Kuroo’s collarbone and closed his eyes. 

A moment of quiet passed between the three-with backup vocals from Bokuto-before Kenma decided to say, “he’s hammered.”

“Oh, he’s gone,” Kuroo chuckled, poking Yaku’s forehead for any reaction. It only lolled, bouncing backward and staying there. His breathing was slowed, there was no fluttering of his eyelashes or any tenseness of his being. He was out. 

“Did you like, drug him or something?” Kenma asked suspiciously. Yaku was never a heavy drinker. He was a smaller dude, so he really had to control his drinking more so than someone like Akaashi had to. Even at the party, Kenma saw him skipping shots when he had to take one. He had even said that he hated being drunk, and Kenma could understand why. It made him touchy and needy and whiney, nothing like his usual solid behavior.

“Nah, I just made fun of him for not being able to drink one drink. He drank like four,” Kuroo explained, sliding his arms under Yaku’s knees and back. He stood carefully, holding him. 

“Why don’t you open Akaashi’s door for me?” 

“He’s gonna kill you if he finds out,” Kenma said, but went anyway, walking to the end of the hall and opening the door. The minute he flicked the light on, his jaw dropped open. The room was a total mess, books, clothes, and papers strewn across the floor. He saw a couple of wrappers from food, a pile of broken glass, a cluster of their missing cups and cans, and random liquor bottles rolled around the floor. Not at all what he expected out of Keiji ‘clean your fucking room you hermit’ Akaashi’s room at all.

“Shit looks like a mini alcoholic tornado came ‘round here,” Kuroo mumbled behind him, slowly stepping in and heading to the unmade bed. It, thankfully, didn’t have any mess on it. He leaned over and placed Yaku down on it. The drunken shorty kept his arms locked around Kuroo, keeping him from moving much. Kuroo dramatically rolled his eyes, then turned to Kenma. “Looks like I’m staying here. Mind grabbing some sweats? Two?” 

“You’re gonna give me my phone?” 

“Yes,” Kuroo began to undo his jeans, and Kenma left. He turned into Bokuto and Kuroo’s room and veered towards the tidier side of the room. He went into one of the drawers and took out two pairs of sweatpants and grabbed two shirts. He walked back into Akaashi’s room to see the really-bad-out-of-context scene of Kuroo pulling the sleepy and babbling Yaku’s pants off while being shirtless and pantsless himself. He threw the clothes at Kuroo, and Kuroo pointed at his discarded pants. 

Kenma took the pants and fished his phone out, and then flipped him off as a sweet ‘goodnight’ before leaving, shutting the light off behind him.

He stopped and stood still against the door. He was sleeping, pretty much cuddling, with Yaku. He let Yaku sit on his lap. He heard no ‘no homo’ at all! He never thought Kuroo would get so close with a guy without a no homo… were they together? They couldn’t be… they fought a lot and Kuroo would have told him and wouldn’t have shut up about it. He’d ask about it tomorrow. 

He walked down the hallway and was stopped suddenly by Bokuto appearing around the corner. He held two plates, smiling and teaming. “I made pasta!” He declared, and turned around, walking to the table and putting one plate down at an empty chair and going to his own. 

Kenma rolled his eyes and followed him to the table, sitting down where Bokuto put his plate and beginning to eat. Bokuto was going on a rant about his day- how it was all really good because a pretty girl smiled at him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM GOING TO SOB Y'ALL ARE SO NICE WTF I'm so bad to you man, these updates are so painfully slow. Works been gruelling and life in general and the election and u g h. The chapter after these is a doozy- The second part of this chapter was supposed to be part of that one but it's taking so long and I am s o sorry. Your comments are so nice though, seriously, it's killing me. Anyways. 
> 
> http://chng.it/2zVTSpcnXK This is something you may or may not have heard about, but this petition is to stand up for the Uyghur Muslims in China who are being detained and put into concentration camps. Please check this out and hopefully sign this petition.

Shoyo was fun to text, Kenma realized. He was interesting, he could actually pull Kenma’s attention away from whatever task it was he was working on and focus it all on him to the point Kenma would find himself standing and waiting for Shoyo’s replies. He was funny, sending random updates of his life and pictures he found on the internet, he’d talk about his practice and work with an enthusiasm that was already extinct in most people Shoyo’s age. Not only did it make Kenma want to lean in and coo at the screen, it also inspired him to take one of the volleyballs from Bokuto’s closet and begin to set it against the wall at night when watching TV.

Now it was Wednesday. His phone was tucked away in his comfy jeans and he was dressed up in black slacks, a white button-down, a black bowtie, a bright red apron, and bright red shoes that their restaurant was known for. The owner, Fukunaga, found it funny. Kenma found it humiliating.

He balanced a large plate over to a sweet old couple and what he assumed to be their kids. This part of the job was always his least favorite- carrying plates. While he was agile and flexible, he wasn’t strong. His muscles shrieked at him every time he had to bring a large order to a table, so he usually had Lev do it, but Lev was doing a birthday surprise thing for a little girl on the other side of the restaurant. 

‘Fuck that little girl,’ He grumbled to himself, sending a shaky plate over to the daughter, and then to the other. He then gave the father his plate and turned to place down the son’s and say a curt ‘thanks’, but instead, he found the man looking at him funny. 

Kenma averted eye contact instinctively, putting the plate down and stepping a pace away. “Is there-“ 

“Ma’am, I think that table wants you?” 

Kenma looked back up to see where the son was pointing and looked that way. 

“They’ve been denying waiters and…” The words died out, being replaced by some cheesy romance movie mind music to Shoyo Hinata’s aggressively waving hand. He sat with three other men, but his eyes were only on Kenma. 

Kenma quickly wrapped it up with the first family and headed over to the table. Shoyo’s hand came down and clasped with his other one. He bounced where he sat. 

Kenma pulled his notepad out of his pocket, flipping it open. As he got closer, he recognized the men as Tsukishima, Tadashi, and Kageyama. Kageyama was dressed more sharply than the rest of them, in full black, which Kenma recognized as the bar’s uniform. He must have work.

Knowing he still had to be formal, he said, “Hello, I’m Kozume. I’ll be your server for tonight. Drinks?” 

“Ooo! You sound so cool being formal, Kenma!” Shoyo immediately gushed, leaning forward.

“That’s not a drink, I don’t think,” Kenma hummed, “would a coke work?”

Shoyo’s lips twisted into a smug point, squinting his eyes like he was testing Kenma. It was an expression Kenma would always link to Kuroo when he was being especially assholey, but this usage of the expression was fine in his books. It was actually… kind of hot. Kenma mentally snapshotted it and sent it into his ‘lotion thoughts’ folder. 

Shoyo ordered a pink lemonade instead of the coke, which Kenma found endearingly childish, and he just barely remembered what his friends wanted. He just brought the paper to the kitchen and placed it in front of the one that was supposed to be made next, knowing he wanted to talk to Shoyo as soon as possible. He knew he was kind of acting like a schoolgirl, trying to get to talk to his crush as much as possible but- c’mon... Shoyo ordered a pink lemonade. Kenma wasn’t the childish one here.

When he brought the drinks, Shoyo immediately sucked down almost half of it while Kenma handed out the rest of the beverages and collected the food orders. Shoyo ordered a dish with fish and meat and asked for extra rice on the side. He repeated the routine he had with the drinks.

Kenma placed the food down, earning barely a thanks before Shoyo shoveled an entire forkful into his mouth. And then another and another and- wow. If they were married, Kenma had better learn to cook better. For a guy on the shorter side, he really did eat like he was 5x his size and- it was- cute. Kenma made fun of his roommates for practically inhaling the fridge each day, he found it a little annoying that they had to grocery shop so much, but with Shoyo, he would be honored to buy an entire Costco for him.

His friend Kageyama also shoved his food into his mouth, less impressively since he was like 6’2” and it was a smaller order, but Tsukishima looked on as if they had just slaughtered and ate someone in front of them. 

Kenma was disappointed he couldn’t just sit down with them and soak in the pure happiness Shoyo was exuding, talk to him a little more, anything. Alas, duty called and he had to leave, only getting to sneak glances over to the table where Shoyo was acting like a vacuum cleaner. 

The old people with their kids left, leaving him a sad tip which he did get annoyed about. They’d been calling him ma’am all night, surely he deserved a little extra for the misgendering! He figured he’d just ask Lev for some of his tip before he left and say something about Kenma having to pick up after one of his tables he’d forgotten about- a lie- and that he deserved it. Lev would most likely hack it over regardless. 

He returned to the old people’s table after putting the dishes back in the kitchen and swiped it with a wet rag half-assedly, knowing that people probably weren’t going to eat from the surface of it and catch a disease. If they did, though, they totally deserved it.

He finished wiping it down and glanced a row behind him to the second window. His heart jittered when he saw Kageyama stand up and crawl over Tsukishima’s lap and jog out the door. His plate wasn’t empty and neither was his drink, Kenma observed, so why did he leave?

He pawned the rag off on one of his co-workers, speedwalking to Shoyo’s table. Tsukishima was bouncing more center into the booth and manspreading, seeming pleased with the new space. Kenma was glad he was short so that he didn’t have that awkward leg problem with sitting places. He’d once taken a train ride on a train where the seats faced forward. It was kind of cramped, but he could still move his legs. Kuroo, however, had to sling a leg over his lap and turn his body sideways and he still was uncomfortable. 

He stopped in front of Shoyo’s table and found all dishes besides Kageyama’s clear. Did he get sick and have to leave? Ugh, his-

“Hi, Ken,” Shoyo grinned, unbothered by Kageyama’s exit.

“Hi, Sho. Is he okay?” Kenma pointed briefly to the door before beginning to gather their plates. Shoyo’s was, surprisingly or unsurprisingly, clean. He piled the on his arm.

“Oh, Kageyama? He’s fine, hisjobstartsoonand Kenma!” His sentence sped up in the middle and his excitement level shot. He reached across the table and put his pointer finger smack dab in the middle of Tsukishima’s forehead. His hand was smacked away. “Tsuki’s playing with us on Friday!”

“Oh?” Tsukishima rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning his glasses, so Kenma took that as affirmation. “Fun.” He hoped the rest of the players weren’t tall like he was. Hopefully, Shoyo gathered a short team- maybe the little league. That was for short people, right?

“Mhhm!”

After that, they ordered dessert. Shoyo and Tsukishima had a mini back and forth about whether strawberry shortcake or chocolate cake was superior. While Kenma wasn’t the biggest cake fanatic- he preferred pie- he definitely would have chosen chocolate cake if he had a choice from then on.

He brought out the desert and made sure to hand it to Shoyo last, just so he could watch the smile that burst across his face at the first bite. He snapshotted mentally again and he stuck that image to the home board of his mind. That was good enough pay for him, he didn’t even care about the cheap tip he’d gotten or any other rudeness he received. He floated through it, even popping a smile or two, and damn- he was fucking in love. 

\---

“Kenny?” Came the kind-of high, kind-of princely, and very much annoying voice of Oikawa Tooru, leaning across the bar and having his face much too close to Kenma’s. He smelled of alcohol, but he most certainly wasn’t drinking(for once), dressed in his full black bartender’s uniform. 

It was Thursday today, late Thursday and he was at a bar with his three other roommates. They were elsewhere down the bar, socializing with other people, so Kenma had opted to slide farthest right to the corner and sip on the virgin Shirley temples he was being slid. He was the designated driver tonight. Kuroo insisted they go out tonight so Kenma can get driving practice as if he hasn’t been driving since he was legally allowed to. He just didn’t like it. Kenma didn’t find not drinking so hard, he kind of liked the dim light of the bar and the music was okay. It allowed him to play his game in mostly peace if he shoved himself in a corner, and because it was Thursday, the few other habitants of the bar were old men and people popping in for the food or a quick little drink before continuing on their way. 

Kenma decided to give Oikawa some attention, briefly lifting his eyes to Oikawa’s before glancing back down. Oikawa must have taken it as a ‘go-ahead’.

“How’s it going, babe?” He asked cutely, fully leaning on his arms to meet Kenma’s eyes. 

“Fine,” He responded, frowning when his character died. He shut the game off, knowing that Oikawa probably would call Kuroo over to steal it if he didn’t get off it himself. He instead busied his body by looking down the bar, at Kageyama who was messing with glasses, and Osamu who was cleaning the counter and making small talk with Bokuto. 

“Oh that’s good,” Oikawa leaned to the side to inject himself into Kenma’s line of vision, pointing a long finger down at the glass in front of Kenma, “are you going to drink that?” 

Kenma glanced down at the red bendy straw and pressed it to his lips, beginning to suck down the liquid. Oikawa hummed in delight. 

“Good… good… any luck with Shoyo?” 

Kenma’s throat closed, causing him to lean away, choking on his drink. His mind was already in a frenzy. Of all people, of ALL people, Tooru Oikawa had to be the one to figure it out. Mr.Gossip Queen himself. 

“Tooru, don’t kill customers,” Osamu warned from the other side of the bar. 

Oikawa waved his hand in acknowledgment of the Miya, his eyes locked on Kenma. “You okay there? It’s rude to die when someone’s talking to you.”

The faux half-blond wiped a sleeve over his lips, gathering the spat up saliva as well as he could, his mouth dry and wordless. The most he could manage was, “I’m sorry?” His brain being too occupied throwing desk chairs and screaming to formulate something better. 

Oikawa didn’t miss a beat, laughing to himself and propping his head on his hands. “You know what I’m talking about,” Oikawa said lowly, dark eyes peering straight into Kenma like he was looking past. Kenma felt almost like a book, being read over by Oikawa without saying a word. It was unnerving and obnoxious and made Kenma want to pack up his friends’ night and leave. Oikawa continued after receiving no response. “Kuroo made a bet with like.. half the school over who you like. Bokuto thinks it’s Osamu since Akaashi thinks it’s Osamu. I don’t think that’s right. I mean, I can barely stop looking at him tonight, I mean- ugh,” Oikawa’s eyes turned to Osamu, “those muscles in that shirt should be illegal. And you haven’t even looked once!” 

Kenma did spare a glance at his words. Osamu was… really well built. Exactly like his brother, except this twin was a little softer in the stomach. He was hot, but just not.. for Kenma. 

“Kuroo didn’t think it was Osamu. He thinks you’re straight, which is ridiculous! God, look at you. That hair screams non-heterosexual,” Oikawa reached out and twirled a strand of bicolored hair of Kenma’s. Kenma would have smacked him away if he wasn’t actually ‘interested’ in what he had to say. “He thinks you like Kiyoko, and he’s convinced a lot of people to believe that too. There are a few guys who say… um... Mina?” 

Kenma understood both the theories attached to the girls’ names. Kiyoko was- well, Kiyoko. And Mina was a girl he talked to frequently, just because she lacked brain power and sat next to him, and so she always asked him for help. He wouldn’t call what he had for them anything of a sort of romantic attraction. 

“Personally!” Oikawa let go of Kenma’s hair and stood straight to emphasize the word, placing a hand firmly on his sternum. “I know that’s all bullshit. I saw how you looked at Sho at that party. I may have been a little drunk, but I know that look better than anyone in this place,” Oikawa tapped his finger against the bar, having a proud tone despite what his words were alluding to. Hajime Iwaizumi and his Disgusting Amount of Heterosexuality. “You can’t even deny it, because if you deny it, I’ll know I’m right.” 

Kenma was still speechless. Oikawa had it, right on the dot like the stupidly analytical and observant guy he was. Oikawa was like a human lie detector, Kenma had come to notice. When you think you’ve gotten away with lying to Tooru Oikawa, you haven’t, and he’s not interested enough to fight you on it. Kenma was observant and smart too, he could read people like open books, but Oikawa could do so while maintaining a completely clear and pleasant rep. 

With that came Oikawa’s selfishness, the real thing that was the catalyst to a storm of anxiety swirling in his stomach. If he knew Kuroo and his friends well enough, Kuroo or someone else, there was a big-ish deal with the winner and the amount of money they’d be taking home. She didn't want to know how much the reward was. Could Oikawa be using this to win? Was he count to tell everyone? Was he going to out him?

Another surge of panic made Kenma lurch forward, anxiety typing a knot with his large intestine and he felt like he was going to throw up. “You, you’re gonna-“

“I’m not gonna out you,” Oikawa said with a heavy sigh, leaning forward on his hand, “although it’s tempting. I want to get you and him together.” 

The tension in Kenma’s shoulders let up and he leaned forward to sip what remained of his Shirley temple. After he’d finished, he asked, “why?” 

Oikawa was, as stated obviously before, selfish and assholey. He thrived on chaos, he did everything to his own benefit no one else’s. 

Oikawa pursed his lips. “Can’t I just be sweet and-“

“Have you met yourself?”

The bartender pouted, his evil plan now thwarted by the power of Kenma. He looked over to the nearest person- Osamu, still talking to Akaashi, and then back to Kenma. 

“Okay, fine,” He leaned forward on his arms and right over to Kenma. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this but little Tobio-Chan has a crush on him and I wouldn’t mind crushing that guy’s dreams into the dirt.” 

So there it was. Some good old fashioned Oikawa-n pettiness. He could write a dozen 2010 Disney teen drama flicks just based on things he’s witnessed from Oikawa, and he barely knew him. 

“I’m not letting you be my personal Cupid,” Kenma declined, taking a sip before continuing. “If this were a game, I’d be the main character and they usually end up fucking. I’m not interested in twinks.” 

“Twink?” Oikawa gaped, “that’s a new one.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

“Anyways! Neither am I, so it’s a win-win. I won’t fuck you, you won’t fuck me, I just want to help out a little bit! You have the sex appeal of an acorn, Kenma, while I had the entirety of Miyagi prefecture’s high school system drooling over me,” Oikawa swiped away a little dust on the counter and narrowed his eyes at Kenma, “you know damn well I could get you and that shortikins together in a heartbeat.” 

Kenma quirked an eyebrow up at Oikawa, but the brunette was unwavering with his eager grin. Kenma didn’t exactly not believe him, but he wasn’t sure how well an Oikawa seduction tactic would work through him. Kenma wasn’t even sure if he had tactics, Oikawa was just so pretty that he naturally drew in people left and right, like Akaashi. He had a certain attractive flare and bright enough personality that could turn heads and make you listen and be interested. Where he failed was with Iwaizumi- the one dude Oikawa had been seemingly trying to get with all his life, and was constantly friend-zoned. 

Hesitantly, Kenma nodded, swirling his straw in the half-finished drink. “Fine… you can’t push me to do anything though. You can just… moderate. And make sure I’m not too bad. And give some advice.” 

Oikawa’s face rested back into a smug grin, showing he’d won. “Oh, perfect,” He smiled, tilting his head. Something told Kenma that he shouldn’t be excited.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start this chapter off with a disclaimer. I try to make the setting as realistic as possible, and this is set in 2016 Japan. Gay marriage is not legal, gay people are… kind of invisible, so I hear. There’s a lot of homophobia, a lot of ignorance, and from this point forward, this story will have a lot more of that. Not from any of the mains- well, none of them are homophobic, but a lot of the mains are ignorant or confused and don’t get it. So, that being said, in this chapter and forwards, TW for homophobia and the f-slur and such. 
> 
> Also, thank you so much for being patient with me! This chapter took needlessly long but I think that it will be speeding up from now and you may be getting updates more frequently (fingers crossed). Feel free to comment things you notice or theorize, I love those. And feel free to critique me and analyze this and make fun of me terribly. Feel free to ask questions! And anyway… I guess let’s talk about the social issue for today’s chapter. 
> 
> https://www.thepetitionsite.com/136/822/471/the-fight-for-gay-rights-is-far-from-over.-sign-to-help-bring-true-equality-to-the-lgbt-community/ because of the content of this specific note and also the rest of the story, here is a petition to help for equal rights for the LGBT community. I believe this petition is just for the US, but I encourage people all over to search for petitions and ways to donate to help LGBTQ people get equal rights. And while you’re at it, maybe sign a few for Black Lives Matter and other social issues. If you have anything you want me to address, please don’t hesitate to comment it. I will gladly do so. Anytime- so if you’re reading this far in the future, I still check comments and I will find a way to advocate for it. Thank you! 
> 
> Now onto this. Sorry these notes were so long. 
> 
> ALSO I JUST LOOKED AT THE PAGE COUNT OF THIS CHAPTER ON DOCS AND ITS REAL LONG

Excitement was faint amongst the myriad of emotions that Kenma felt when he woke up that Friday morning, and only grew fainter as he waded through his classes and crept closer to that fated 4 pm. He tried to tell himself it would be fine- People did this all the time. Beach volleyball with teams like regular volleyball. Random people, strangers. He could do it… right?

It didn’t help. He felt a shot of dread slicing through his system each time he pictured it, and each time he pondered upon different excuses he could use if he were to dip out. It wasn’t like his mom knew- or even worse- Kuroo. He could easily say he was sick and dip under the radar for a couple of days. Give himself a break from socialization- But the stupid little cupid in his head kept telling him that Shoyo invited him to this and he didn’t want to let him down. Or miss the chance to see him postgame, sweaty and perhaps shirtless. He used that as his urge to go- and somehow, he did find the strength.

That’s how he found himself standing in swim trunks and a sweatshirt, staring at two other men in similar attire on a Friday afternoon in early June, with the sun being too bright and Kenma’s own resolve fading as he hid behind the door to the apartment. He was having second thoughts. How easy it would be to turn around here and use that sick excuse. It would be fine- Shoyo wouldn’t be too disappointed. They could deal without a setter! It was just a play game, right? Nothing serious, nothing he was-

“Kid, move it!”

Kenma jerked forward at the sound of a gruff old man and whipped his head back to see Ukai and Ukai Jr. walking his way and both holding ends of a loveseat. He first thought- wow, that old man is jacked. And then he thought, fuck. No going back now.

“Hey, Kenma! Over here!” 

Shoyo spotted him before the two Ukais even made it to the door. He sounded bubbly, excited, kind as ever. He was actually expecting Kenma- waiting for Kenma. Well- obviously. But he’d been  _ eager  _ about it.

The faux blond glanced behind him and to Shoyo, who’s expression perfectly equaled his tone. Damn sun.

“Hey, S-”

“Don’t you dare move, little girl! This back can’t take a door  _ and  _ this TV!”

“Don’t be such a jerk, you old fart!” 

Kenma stayed put. He looked back to Shoyo and tried to wear an apologetic as possible expression, but found the ginger was gone from his spot, and Tsukishima was looking mildly annoyed at something beside Kenma. He followed his eyes and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Shoyo rounding the door and sliding in, taking Ukai Sr.’s end of the couch over for him. He carefully walked it backward with Ukai, heading over to a pickup truck parked at one of the crosswalks they had disregarded. Kenma took this time struggling not to drool over the sight of Shoyo being a strong individual(his muscles looked awfully big in that tank top he wore) and the kindness displayed in that half-second. Kenma knew he wouldn’t have ever done that- even if he was as strong as Shoyo. 

Shoyo shut the back of the truck and waved at the older men before jogging back over to where Kenma was still standing, trying to collect his R-rated thoughts and heartbeat which were currently running rampant.

The ginger jumped to a stop in front of him with a smile that could light up anything in a blackout. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Kenma said back quickly, as simple as he usually did. He mentally freaked out about a voice crack that hadn’t come.

Shoyo beamed despite the lame reply, shooting an arm out and clamping his hand down on Kenma’s shoulder. Sparks flew from the area. “C’mon, I think we’re late. Tsukishima’s waiting too!”

“Cool…” Shoyo looked at Tsukishima, still looking mildly annoyed, but relieved as he and Shoyo walked closer. “Where’s the car?”

“We’re walking! That okay?”

No. “Yeah. S’fine.”

And so, the walk to the beach began. 

It wasn’t a long walk, in all honesty, but it was still a walk that took out energy from Kenma before he was about to spend what little he had usually on volleyball. He just had to.. had to pray the other setter was terrible! It’s not like they could randomly find a professional setter, not a really good one, in under a week, for an informal,  _ full _ game of volleyball on a beach! No! No way!

* * *

Kenma wanted to die. He figured doing it himself would be better than going down in a fiery ball of his own humiliation, or possibly due by getting spiked in the face with a volleyball, but he surely  _ didn _ ’ _ t _ want to be here, standing where he was standing, staring at who he was staring at. The other setter. 

_ Atsumu Miya.  _

“Kenny?” The other faux blond grinned once he latched eyes with the shorter, a lazy and playful smirk that screamed trouble working its way across his face, “don’t tell me... yer the other setter?” 

Beside him, Hinata made an excited little noise before bouncing off to talk to someone- another short dude(way shorter, he barely looked like he was 5 foot), leaving Kenma on his own, in the little mini face-off that was beginning to grow into a many face off as the other players were noticing him, and the pit only made itself larger in his stomach with every eye he recognized. 

Iwaizumi was watching him with a smirk, beside Oikawa who was ogling at him. Next to Oikawa was a mini scoreboard that you’d find in a school gymnasium, and beside that was Mika, and then Daishou, talking to her. Yaku stood off to the side with the short guy and Shoyo, not seeming to notice Kenma yet. Ushijima, Asahi, and Osamu were all standing in various spots across the court, for instance, Osamu was leaning on his brother’s arm and typing something on his phone. The other guys there  _ also _ looked like beasts- but that sparked less fear than the person stalking his way up with a stupid Cheshire grin that Kenma would just adore to physically wipe off. 

“Kitten? I didn’t know you still played,” Kuroo jeered, bending his body in front of the twins and stepping in Atsumu’s path. “I thought you never would play again! You never play with  _ me _ .” 

“You didn’t tell  _ me _ you were going to be here,” Kenma retorted back, half-assedly with a crack in his voice. His heart was beating a million times a minute- he fucking  _ hated  _ this. He knew he would be regretting it the minute he agreed- he hadn’t played in forever, he’d just be an embarrassment, but over the week he’d calmed himself, telling himself that it was probably just going to be a casual, fun  _ little _ game with a few people Hinata knew. Not a whole bunch of monster guys that Kenma knew as well, guys who never didn’t take volleyball seriously, official game or not. He was going to get creamed, the first serve would go directly to his face and he’d die and rot into the sand and turn it red and Hinata would  _ laugh _ at him because he was  _ awful. Fuck! _

“I always play, you know this, Kitten,” Kuroo walked around him to stand at his side, and he whistled. “Hina, huh? He charmed you too?” 

“ _ What? _ ” 

“That guy attracts everyone. I’ve never met someone who didn’t like Hinata- deep down, I know that even Tsukishima admires the guy. You meet Hina once, and he never leaves,” Kuroo smirked, “ _ that’s  _ his charm.” 

“Oh,” He mumbled back, his anxiety stepping down a peg on a ladder but not fully climbing down. Kuroo was smart, he was as smart as Kenma and possibly smarter(and definitely academically, way smarter) in almost every way. The only place that Kenma bested him was in video games and reading people- While Kuroo was damn good too, he tended to brush off random things and decide he didn’t care, or he’d miss finer details. But that was like telling lies and actions to come- He could figure Kenma’s crush out in an instant if he was left with him and his crush for a while. And this- this was that instance. He didn’t want Kuroo to know, he’d never hear the end of it and his parents would hear about it and Kuroo’s dad would hear about it and  _ everyone  _ would hear about it and that would be the end. 

No… so just… don’t look at Shoyo. Focus on the game. 

“There’s a lot of good players.” 

“Huh?” Kuroo’s head snapped back to Kenma from where it was turned, looking to a group of girls in bikinis hitting each other with their towels. “Oh- yeah- How old do you think they are?” 

“Kuro,” Kenma tugged the tall pervert’s arm, “Can you tell me who these people are?” 

Kuroo blasted one last longing look at the girls before he finally huffed and looked out on the crowd of guys talking, socializing before someone made the move to let them know it was time to start. “Right,” Kuroo sucked in through his teeth, “well, you know Iwa, Tsuki, Asahi, and Daishou. Osamu. Obviously Yaku. Uh… Ushijima,” He pointed towards the Goliath man, “do you know him?” 

“Not exactly,” Kenma put his lips together, “I kind of met him at that party.” 

“Right,” Kuroo poked his tongue out of his mouth, “that’s Daichi. Both of them are spikers. Matsukawa’s a middle blocker- Oh and the small dude, that’s Nishinoya. He’s a libero. Hinata’s a middle blocker too, right. You- You know enough about all of them right?”

“I… guess…?” He didn’t. He only knew of Kuroo and Yaku’s abilities for sure, the rest were blanks to him. But Kuroo was already jogging off. 

“I’m gonna see what those g-“ 

“Alright!” Oikawa’s voice came again, started by a loud clap of his hands, stopping Kuroo where he stood. He threw a look to the girls again, then rolled his eyes and returned to the group.  _ Creep.  _ “Setters, boys, come here.” 

Kenma looked around and saw that Atsumu was walking towards Oikawa with a slanted grin, looking back at Kenma as if to say, ‘gonna come, pussy? Bet you won’t.’ Kenma went. 

Oikawa reached out for him like a mother and grabbed his shoulder, twirling him around and pulling him up close. “Alright! Liberos, come choose a setter! The dashing Atsumu or the…” Oikawa flicked his eyes up and down Kenma, “twinkish Kenma!” 

Kenma would have been offended if it had come from anyone other than Oikawa. 

Kenma looked up to meet Yaku’s eyes pleadingly, trying to beckon him over with a look. He was the best libero Kenma had met and played by far. He could pick up balls easily by guys twice the size and ten times the strength of him. He was quick and agile and going pro- that other guy was skinny and didn’t look above five foot, if he even got there. 

Yaku ignored him, however, and turned pointedly to Atsumu and strode to him confidently, breaking his faith in that little guy.  _ Do you want to see me suffer? _

Yaku turned back to him with a look that said,  _ absolutely. _

The little guy, Nishinoya, bounded up to Kenma with unbridled excitement, jumping to a harsh stop in front of the blond. He sized him up, and then jumped, little hands stretching for the sky. “We’re gonna win!” He declared confidently. 

“Alrighty, setters! Pick your spikers, okay? Kenma, go first since you haven’t played with us,” Oikawa winked, nodding his head over to the group of men who had sorted themself by position. He guessed by Iwa in one group and Kuroo in the other. 

“I guess that works, but he doesn’t know anyone. He’s just going randomly! It’s not like it’s gonna help him win.”

Kenma squinted towards Atsumu, who had his hand up to cover his mouth as he talked to Yaku, but he said it loud and his eyes were on Kenma.  _ Fucker,  _ he thought looking at the group,  _ I know exactly who to pick, shut up.  _

“Osamu.” 

The grey-haired twin seemed to jolt upon hearing his name coming from someone who  _ wasn’t  _ Atsumu. He seemed to look to his brother for some sort of clarification. 

Atsumu wasn’t having it. “That ain’t fair!” Atsumu argued, turning to Oikawa, “he can’t-“ 

“Ah! No no, Kenma picks first, you agreed. Let’s go, Osamu,” Oikawa waggled his finger towards him, and so, he came over and put himself next to Osamu. Nishinoya delivered the same excited exclamation. 

Atsumu huffed. “Fuck, fine, be that way,” He turned forward, “Ushijima. Get over here.” 

Goliath moved where he was told to, and Atsumu shot him a shit-eating grin. Ushijima must have been good- he definitely was good. He was massive, Kenma was going to grab him first before he realized it would be better to separate the twins and their creepy twin telepathy plays. 

Deciding to play it safe, Kenma chose Iwaizumi. He was an ace, and he had muscles that rivaled Ushijima’s, so he was good.. right? But Atsumu still looked overly smug while he picked Asahi. So Kenma chose Daichi, going for his bulk, and Daishou went to Atsumu. 

“Good picks, boys,” Oikawa hooked his arm around Iwaizumi, standing right behind Kenma, “now last and definitely least-“ 

“Hey-“ 

“Blockers,” Oikawa shot an obvious glance down at Kenma, and shifted his eyes from him to Hinata, “choose wisely babe!” 

Kenma nodded slowly and then looked at the blockers. “Kuro,” He said like it was a given, which it was. While this  _ was _ to get closer to Shoyo… kind of… those looks and the smug comments Atsumu kept making made him want to win, and so knowing Kuroo’s playstyle would help that. Anyways, it wasn’t like Atsumu’d choose Shoyo over Tsukishima… He could just-

“Shoyo! C’mere!” 

“Yeah!” Shoyo bounced where he stood and then shot off towards the group, high fiving each of the people he turned to.  _ Why would Atsumu choose him? _ Sure, perhaps Shoyo was good, but he couldn’t be so good that Atsumu would knowingly choose a 5’8” guy over 6’5”. Was Atsumu going easy? Was Kenma underestimating Shoyo?

“Tsukishima,” Kenma called, sending Matsukawa to Atsumu. 

“Wonderful picks,” Oikawa smiled shakily, “some better than  _ others _ .” 

“Don't be a cunt.” 

“Sorry, Iwa. Anyway,” Oikawa narrowed his eyes at Kenma as if he had just fucked something up majorly, and then to Atsumu, “Figure out your positions an all that- talk out a plan! May the odds be ever in your favor!” 

“Nerd!” 

Conversation began as the boys began to assess the teams they’d been put in. Kenma really couldn’t do much of that, being a kind of bystander as his team talked amongst themselves. Kuroo slipped back to his side. 

“Those picks..” Kuroo sucked in, “not sure how good this will be.” 

“It’s your fault for not telling me more about them,” Kenma huffed back, and Kuroo scoffed. Their team was definitely shorter, on average. They certainly had the shortest guy, Nishinoya, who when standing next to Kenma was only up to his shoulder, and they also had the tallest. It would then be Kuroo, who was about 6’4”, and then Osamu at 6’1”. It was shorter than Atsumu, at his own 6’2”, Ushijima who looked about as tall as Kuroo, if not taller, and Asahi, who was probably also the same height. Daishou was about 6’0”, Kenma was pretty sure, and Matsukawa looked a bit taller than Atsumu. Only two dudes on Atsumu’s team were under 6’. Kenma’s had four- Noya could have even been under 5’. 

“It’s fine, you can manage, and it’ll be good practice for us,” Kuroo patted his back, “having a setter shaky on his feet may do us some good.” 

“So you  _ want _ me to suck?” Kenma frowned. 

“You are  _ going  _ to suck,” Kuroo affirmed, now bringing his hand back and smacking it against Kenma. He doubled over with a heavy breath coming out of him.  _ Fucker. _

Kenma gathered himself in a few seconds, managing to stand straight and finding someone new at his side- Oikawa. 

“Are you stupid, Ken-Ken?” 

Kenma squinted at the brunette. “What’s it to you?” 

“You ruined my plan,” Oikawa pressed his lips tight in a pout as he whisper-yelled at Kenma, disapproval painted in bright red across his face, “if you had just picked Shoyo, which I swore was the  _ obvious _ option,  _ I  _ could have gone through with that beautiful plan of mine and you could have been getting dicked down already.”

Kenma frowned. It’s not like he didn’t  _ want  _ that, he definitely did. One hundred percent did. In fact, that  _ was _ his plan until Atsumu decided to be more of a prick than normal. He must have known about Kenma’s trend for being competitive. Was he friends with Yamamoto or something? 

“Oh well, I want to win,” Kenma flicked his eyes behind Oikawa briefly, and then back to him. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“To score keep and wait for Iwa to take off his shirt, obviously,” Oikawa waved his hand behind him, in the direction of both the plastic scoreboard and Iwaizumi, who was currently talking to Daichi. 

“No-“ Kenma looked away from Iwaizumi as a few girls began passing behind him and he nearly made eye contact, “why aren’t you playing? You’re a setter. You could take over and make me… not… embarrass myself.” 

Oikawa looked confused for a moment, and then it dawned on him with his lips shaping an O. “I really don’t know you well, huh?” His hand pointed downwards now as he pushed his right leg out, “my injury. I fucked it up one too many times, had to get surgery, and I was told that if I wanted to keep walking, I shouldn’t keep playing so much… It’s painfully similar to Tobio’s situation.” He scowled, and then shook his head, “I’ll give you pointers through the game, but if you suck, you suck.” 

“I’m good,” Kenma glanced down at the knee in question. He did have a brace on it like he always did, but he’d supposed it wasn’t that bad. Weird… did setters have a trend for that or something? Why couldn’t that have happened to him? If he couldn’t play or walk, his life would probably be a little easier. You usually didn’t have to walk to game. He could have lived with I-

“Kenma! Get over here,” Kuroo called out, drawing Kenma from his thoughts. 

Kenma looked once to Atsumu’s team, huddled in a circle, and then walked over to his own, making its own oval. He was fucking terrified. 

* * *

“Hey,” Nishinoya barked Kenma’s way. They had talked, discussed their rotations briefly, only giving Kenma more time to stew over the anxiousness in his gut, festering and festering until it reached his face. He felt small, prey to the many eyes watching him, turning to him, as if he was the leader- which he certainly did  _ not _ want to be. Sure he knew the rules of the game still, he could kind of set, but the fear of letting everyone down was getting too much. The fear of disappointing Shoyo was making him plot ways to escape. He was barely present in their conversation about the came, picking up on the important parts, but mainly, he found himself separating into terrified thoughts. Noya must have noticed. 

The faux blond lifted his head from his feet to meet his eyes. Big black eyes were staring back at him, squinted in thought(which honestly surprised Kenma, by the way he talked, he didn’t sound like he was capable of much of that). The small boy’s face shifted from thoughtful to one of determination, stomping forward. Kenma found himself at the mercy of tiny hands, the fat of his cheeks gripped so tightly that he felt like he was going to bleed, and bent so that he was eye level with Noya. 

“You’re getting scared, right? You’re probably thinking you’re gonna suck! You’re all like, ‘Oh, I’m gonna do so bad! I’m so scared! What’s the point?’” His grip tightened with every sentence he said, tugging Kenma’s face forward. “Well, no matter how wimpy you feel, we’ve got this! If you can’t set, I can set!” 

“I can set too, if you suck,” Osamu called out behind Noya. 

Noya smiled wide. “See? We’ve got your back! Suck as hard as you want!” Noya released his grip and instead smacked Kenma’s cheeks with too much force. “Be confident we’ll win, Kenpa!” 

Kenma straightened out his back and looked down at Noya. Something about the guy reminded him of Hinata, bright and brilliant, oozing with confidence despite any possible setbacks. Like… almost if this guy and Bokuto merged, Hinata would be the offspring… He wondered if Shoyo had known him long. 

“It’s Kenma.” 

“Whatever!” 

* * *

By a toss of a coin, it was decided that Atsumu’s team would be serving, and Atsumu would be the server. He was definitely concentrated, his eyes trained on the ball and how it sat in his hands, twirling it over as he waited for Oikawa to whistle.

When it came, Atsumu sucked in and got into position. His muscles flexed as he leaned back, threw it up and-

“Big brother! I love you!” Came Osamu’s holler, loud, almost echoing through the beach. “Yer the best! I love you so so much!” 

Atsumu visibly faltered, the ball flying over slower than what he must have intended. Daichi got under it and sent it upwards. It shook, but Kenma watched it with his eyes and took three steps back and- there. 

He jumped up and hit the ball over to where he could see Iwaizumi positioning. The minute the ball left his hands, he felt his entire body shake. His feet hit the ground and immediately came out from under him. His feet flew up, and in a millisecond, he found himself breathless and on his back.  _ The fucking sand.  _

“Are you okay?” Mika called out to him as he pushed himself up. He forced himself to sit, leaning over himself. This day just wanted to take his breath away, eh? 

“I’m fine,” He called once his head stopped spinning. His ass and the back of his head hurt from where he collided with the ground. It wasn’t awful… but it was fueling his need to find an excuse to leave. Maybe he should have faked being hurt more… but then Shoyo would think he’s a wimp and he’d never hear the end of it from Atsumu- “My daughter could take that fall better!” He could imagine him saying. 

“Aw kitten, that was a big fall,” Kuroo cooed, waking up from behind him and grabbing him from under the arms. He lifted him to his feet like he was a child. Kenma swatted him off. 

“It looked fun though! Wish I was in your spot, Ken!” Oikawa called this from beside the scoreboard, the red side having a 1, while the blue side had a 0. Kenma was the red team… they scored? 

“You could be if you had gone to Shiratorizawa. If you went to Shiratorizawa, you would-“ 

Ushijima was cut off by a loud, “Nananana!” 

“Kenma.” 

The blond looked towards Iwaizumi, still standing where he had fallen back down from his spike. His hand was out in front of him and he looked… impressed? Iwaizumi? Impressed?

“That was a perfect set.” 

There was a quiet ‘ooo’ following Iwaizumi’s declaration, mixed with interested ones and mocking ones. Kenma felt himself blush. 

“Okay,” He muttered, pride building in his stomach.  _ Perfect,  _ eh? He never was perfect- he never thought so anyway. His sets were calculated, sure, but never spectacular or extraordinary like Oikawa or Atsumu’s.  _ Perfect. _

Kenma found himself looking across the net, searching for their opinions. Atsumu was staring at him, giving him a dirty look, as well as glancing to his brother, also displeased. Kenma considered yelling at him to say he loved Osamu back.

Hinata also stared at him, standing off the court as Yaku was on. His eyes shone with excitement, pride, they showed some sort of hunger. He was practically shaking to get in the game. He looked impressed too. 

It so was  _ perfect.  _

From then, they got an early lead. Iwaizumi served, and it was shakily picked up by Yaku, set, and then spiked by Daishou. Tsukishima, however, cleanly shut it down before Yaku could get under it. 2nd point. 

“Look at my student!” Kuroo had cheered, reaching from his spot off court to pat Tsukishima’s back, “Big, big boy shutting down the snake.” 

“Don’t call me big boy.” 

“You fuckwipe! Don't call me a snake! Suck  _ my _ fucking sn-“ 

“Daishou!” Mika called, “the game must go on!” 

Said snake stiffened, but gave it up, begrudgingly going back to his spot. 

The next point was there’s, served by Iwa and going a full way through Atsumu’s side before Noya hit it up. Kenma set it to Osamu, and the ball hit the tips of Matsun’s fingers before flying out of bounds. 

“Come on!” Atsumu grumbled loudly. He was getting irritable already. Kenma felt himself smirk. 

They took one more point before Asahi broke through Tsukishima and his own block- more like just Tsukishima’s. The ball didn’t even go near Kenma. It had just slammed through and hit the ground by Osamu’s feet. 

The game was, by far, in Kenma’s side’s favor. He was getting overly cocky, but pretty bored as they racked up points, taking the lead like it was nothing, and remaining too far ahead for the rest to keep up. The sand was a problem, but with time passing, he could used to it, so it was now just a matter of getting the point. They were 17-12 by the time Atsumu’s team rotated again, and Shoyo was in the front. 

The ginger had been quiet the entire game, receiving and looking like he wanted to just go and jump, but he never did. It made Kenma’s mental prediction more true to him- Shoyo probably wasn’t all that good. Which was okay- he was still strong and handsome and everything. But then again, maybe he  _ was _ a good blocker. Maybe that’s why he was so anxious to get in front. 

The ball was served up by Matsukawa and went full circle through Kenma’s court before Kuroo spiked it down. Yaku dove and received the hit, much to Kenma’s dismay. It had been strong and fast and quick, he didn’t get how Yaku could dive so quickly. He’d have to work around that. 

Now the ball was in Atsumu’s sights as the setter ran to get under it. He positioned himself, crouched ever so slightly, then jumped. 

Then Kenma lost the ball. 

He stood, waiting for Noya or Daichi to pick it up, to see it and prepare to set but… it was no longer in the air. He found the ball rolling to a stop by Noya, on the ground and laughing. Everyone, in fact, was laughing. His team, the other team…  _ what _ ?

“Whew! See that, kitten?” Kuroo cackled from a few feet away, one arm clutched around his stomach and his finger under his eye. 

“No,” Kenma said, matter of factly. He looked again at the ball, still by Noya’s feet, and then turned his eyes to Atsumu’s side. 

The intensity at which Shoyo was looking back at him felt just like he’d caught a train with his gut. The ginger was standing on the opposite side of the court to where he had been, right hand clenched and a proud smile. He radiated confidence as if he knew Kenma had been criticizing him and did this to say, ‘Didja see that?’ He looked again at the ball. Then the distance Shoyo had ran. He’d done that all in a second…? 

“See what I mean, kitten?” Kuroo purred, his arm slinking around Kenma’s shoulders. 

“I… I do.” 

Kenma suddenly didn’t feel bored. He wanted to see that- He wanted to play. 

The game paused after Shoyo’s spike, Oikawa calling them over to drink some water and lose the shirts. Kenma’s entire team, minus himself, Osamu, and Noya did so. Then Atsumu’s entire team did. Kenma had physically felt a gust of air leave his body upon seeing Shoyo- he was just as muscley as Kenma imagined, and it  _ showed.  _ He wasn’t like Kuroo, who was strong and definitely had abs, but still slim, and he wasn’t like Lev, with his lightly defined abs, still visible, very tight and there. No, no, Shoyo was  _ beefed _ . Kenma felt almost invigorated by the new sight.  _ If I win this, Shoyo will want to play more, and he’ll play more without his shirt _ . 

They got on with the game and Shoyo proved to be a monster. He was fast, running all over their side of the court and jumping for everything he could, even if the ball clearly wasn’t going his way. His blocks were amazing, despite his height. He got up there and his arms stayed solid no matter how hard the ball came for him. His spikes- they were fast and strong and unpredictable. Kenma had the chance to dig one up. 

He hadn’t even planned it. He saw Shoyo dart to the side, and the next thing he knew, a volleyball was flying his way. He dove to the ground with his arms out, and it did get up, but it left a stinging sensation on his arms that he was sure would have left a mark. From there, Osamu set it and Daichi spiked it down, but Shoyo still looked proud of himself. 

Despite Shoyo’s somewhat heroic and spontaneous appearance, tearing up the court, Kenma’s team took the first set. Atsumu was definitely the most irritated on his team, but he seemed excited still, ready to get back to the game and supposedly kick ass. The most encouraged was Shoyo. He was vibrating the entire break, eager to play again. 

The second set went the opposite way. Shoyo’s darting around managed to gain Atsumu’s team the advantage, along with the paired power of Ushijima’s left-handed spike and Atsumu’s monster served and sets. It led them to victory, though Kenma’s team was barely behind. 

The third set kept them neck and neck. It was like a race- Kenma’s team would pull forward three points, and Atsumu’s team wound immediately follow. Kenma got two. Atsumu got two. Kenma got five, Atsumu got five. 

It was in the middle of the set when the ball flew out of bounds. Ushijima had overshot his spike and it went flying past Kenma, making his head spin and the score tied again, 17-17. 

“Can you get that Ken?” 

“Sure,” He had agreed, turning around to follow the ball’s path with his eyes. It had gone real far, so Kenma jogged over the couple yards away it had been landed. He was leaning down to pick it up when his hand was intercepted by a foot, it turning expertly to kick it properly, and it flew further down the beach. 

Kenma frowned as he watched it fly, and looked at the foot. He followed the leg that was attached to it, all the way to the smug face of it’s owner. 

Behind him, Kenma saw a group of other guys, pushing each other around and laughing, their eyes generally on the guy in front of Kenma. A few others from the group had run for the ball. 

“Hey, mama,” The guy in front of him purred once Kenma stood straight, looking him forward. Kenma felt himself cringe. “Playin’ volleyball? Ain't it hot out?” 

Kenma turned his head away. He was getting all kinds of bad vibes from the guy, especially since he was the type to pin Kenma as a girl, solely because of his hair and height. Maybe his face too- he was ultra-aware of his soft baby face… and his eyes were kind of big, like a girl’s. He always had dark eyelashes… m-

“Not a talker?” 

Kenma snapped his head back to the creepazoid for half a second before trying to ignore him by watching as a few of this guy’s friends and a few guys who were playing with him fight over the ball. 

“You’re awfully pretty.” 

He watched Nishinoya get a good hold of the ball, but one of the guy’s friends jumped under and the ball flew backward to one of the other guys. He ran. 

“Why are you wasting your time with these dudes?” 

Kenma squinted at the guy, hoping he’d take it as a ‘kindly fuck off’ but he didn’t. Kenma wanted to walk away… but his feet felt frozen to the hot sand. It was a surreal feeling. He turned his head back to the court, hoping someone would come over and help him. Most of the guys were trying to get the ball back, and the few that stayed back were talking amongst themselves and glancing over here. Only Hinata seemed avidly watching, staring at the scene like he didn’t know what to make of it. 

“Come on, mama,” Kenma felt the guy’s hand reaching forward, and he was suddenly holding Kenma’s hair, sliding his hand through the long strands. “Say something. No need to be shy! Are these scary men holding you hostage?” He reached backward and brushed his hair behind his ear. That was Kenma’s last straw. 

Kenma reached his hand up in response and smacked the creep’s hand away, pulling his hair back over his shoulder where he liked it. “Can you  _ not _ ?” 

The guy’s hand immediately flew to his chest and he took a step back as if Kenma had terribly offended him. Kenma mentally cursed himself for saying anything now- he should have just walked away. 

“Your- Your voice. You’re no girl! You’re a faggot!” He spat, now leaning forward and shoving Kenma harshly. The blond fell to the ground with a thud. “A fucking faggot, guys!” 

“Dude, really?” One of his friends stepped right up and looked down at Kenma. He laughed. “Oh my god! She’s a dude-  _ Dude,  _ you were gonna bang a fag!” 

“He looks just like a girl!” 

“Faggot!” 

Kenma pushed himself backward a pace before he forced himself upwards at a higher speed, jogging back to the court, not wanting to hear any more of that shit, even as the guys continued to holler at him whine he retreated. Why couldn’t onions just… accept shit like that? And not assume- who were they to figure out if he liked guys or not? It’s not like long hair decides that.  _ Assholes. _ Kenma kicked a mound of sand. 

“Kenma,” Shoyo ran up to meet Kenma at the outer set line of the court. “What was that all about?” 

Kenma huffed. “Nothing. He thought I was a girl. He got wordy when he learned I wasn’t,” Kenma shrugged. He didn’t want to fight them or get revenge- it was too much work for him. He could just move on, he  _ wanted  _ to move on, but Shoyo was stuck on the finer details.

“He pushed you down,” He frowned, looking behind Shoyo again. “He pushed you because you weren’t a girl?” 

“He was pressed he couldn’t get lucky I guess,” Kenma shrugged. 

“What kind of wordy was he?” 

Kenma raised his eyes directly to Shoyo’s and found them looking right back at him. There was a flame- he was annoyed, maybe angry, definitely upset. He was worked up about it- he cared that Kenma had been hurt. 

“He called me a faggot.”

Shoyo gasped loudly, his entire face stretching with the way his mouth opened, his eyebrows furrowing further. “What?” His fists clenched, “a… that’s... that’s awful! Do you want me to fight ‘em?” 

Kenma tried to search for any signs of this being a joke, but with the serious look on his face and the way his muscles were flexing with each tightening of his hand, Kenma knew he wasn’t joking. And while kind of scary, it also felt reassuring. Here was Shoyo, a normal straight and cis man, ready to fight a group of bigots over the use of a slur. Gay marriage wasn’t legal in Japan, gay couples were rarely recognized. They were ignored, unseen, but when they were seen, it was absolutely taboo. His group of acquaintances were widely accepting-ish. They didn’t talk about it, but when they did, it wasn’t with malice. Maybe ignorance, but no malice. Lev was bisexual. Atsumu, despite being a total asshole and having a girlfriend, seemed willing to try it out. Akaashi was convinced that he liked boys, and Oikawa knew. He expected that of them, the acceptance because he knew them, but he never would expect them to go out of their way to defend someone. And here was Shoyo… ready to defend him. 

Kenma felt his eyes stinging, and he reached to try and rub about the tears that were beginning to form. Shoyo squeaked. 

“Oh my god- I’m sorry! Did I scare you?” Shoyo’s hands found Kenma’s elbows, holding them so casually and leaning forward to look at Kenma’s face. His tears only quickened. 

“You- no- no,” Kenma felt a little laugh bubbling up his throat amongst the tears. Shoyo’s touch felt so good. “Not at all…” 

“Oh, phew,” Shoyo sounded like he laughed, and his hold on Kenma’s arms lingered. “Why are you crying then?” 

Kenma sucked in through his nose, a sharp intake before he let out a little sob mixed with a laugh. “I’m not sure,” He lied, tilting his head further to hide the tears. 

Shoyo’s thumb was running circles into the fat of his bicep. “Do you want a hug?” 

“ _ Please. _ ” 

The plead came out needier than Kenma ever imagined he’d hear himself sound. It made his stomach ache and a little insecurity begin eating at his insides, hoping that Shoyo wouldn’t read into it that far. Because if he did, he’d figure out just how much Kenma fucking  _ needed  _ it, and maybe he’d leave Kenma in the sand with the harsh word of what he was spat all over him. He couldn’t imagine Shoyo leaving him like that. 

The ginger’s arms encircled him, slipping around his middle and pulling him forward. Kenma found his way around Shoyo’s shoulders, basking in the warmth that was Shoyo. He was still shirtless, making the hug seem so much closer, making it mean so much  _ more _ to Kenma. To feel him, all skin and bone, raw against Kenma’s touch despite him being a  _ faggot _ … Shoyo really was so amazing.

* * *

The guys who had tried getting the ball had come back empty-handed, so they settled the game as a tie. The guys began disassembling, saying their goodbyes, and heading off. He saw a few go down to the water, even though it was getting late, and most people were going home. Shoyo had waded off to say goodbye to everyone, floating around like a butterfly and giving everyone a personalized goodbye. 

Kenma didn’t know if he was supposed to wait for Shoyo or Kuroo, so he stood to the side and figured if they left without him, so be it. He didn’t particularly care about socializing, he was ready to go home and bathe and sleep and obsess over that hug and Shoyo’s entire existence. 

Kenma had a game opened on his phone, some shooting game, when Nishinoya barreled up to him and collided with his stomach. It wasn’t bad, given that the guy also probably didn’t weigh that much, but it made Kenma stumble a bit. He took it as a sign to put down his phone, and he placed it in his pocket. 

“Kenja! You did so great! You are so fucking cool!” The small man declared, his hands balling into fists in front of him as he beamed. His eyes were practically glowing, shining with excitement.

“Kenma. And thanks.” 

“Yeah! And you looked so cool talking to that guy! He was like,” Noya got into his tiptoes and balled his fists around him like he was flexing, “‘Rrr, fear me!’ And you were like,” He turned on his heel and returned to his normal height, “‘no.’ And you took that fall like a champ! Absolute champ! Assholes may have got the ball, but I bet you got their pride!” 

Kenma nodded slightly. Nishinoya was definitely like Shoyo on excitement levels… he was like a condensed Shoyo. His hyperness and excitement was intense, but always positive. “Thanks.” 

“What did they want anyway?” Noya tilted his head, “he kicked the ball then talked to you.” 

“Oh, uh,” Kenma pushed the larger part of his hair behind his shoulder, and he considered putting it up as to have a reason not to look at Noya. While like Shoyo, he wasn’t Shoyo, and he felt awkward talking like this. “They thought I was a girl I guess. Wanted to do boy-girl things, you know?” 

Noya’s expression turned sour. “Oh, I  _ know, _ ” He huffed, wetting his bottom lip. He stewed for maybe half a second, but then popped back to another topic, leaving Kenma with a few questions that he wasn’t going to ask. “We should play again! You were super fun! And super impressive!” Noya jumped upwards, flying a few feet in the air. “WE NEED TO-“ Noya stopped, suddenly suspended in the air, and his legs dangled. Behind him, Asahi stood, holding him up. Noya went on. “Plan something!” 

Kenma didn’t respond, only nodded as to not commit himself to anything. It satisfied Noya, giving Asahi room to talk. 

“Sorry… we have to go though.” Asahi placed Noya down, but the small man was already jumping right back on, now on his back. Asahi was completely unfazed by it. “It was… very nice meeting you. Good job… bye.” 

He waved as Asahi turned around and began walking down the beach, towards where the parking lot was. Noya was turned on his back and waving back until he wasn’t and Kenma’s attention was already being nabbed. 

“Kenma!” 

Shoyo was heading back over to him, and a few feet away, Tsukishima was walking up too, on the phone and talking aggressively to whoever was on the other line. 

“Shoyo,” He responded, nodding at him. He felt relief in his presence. That hug came back to his mind. 

“Hey, hiya,” Shoyo stopped in front of him and he did a quick once over Kenma. “Let’s walk back together, okay?” 

Kenma nodded, though he felt off. The sentence Shoyo had finished didn’t sound as excited and eager as they usually did- it still did have some elements, but it had taken on a pleading tone. Certainly not as pleading as Kenma had been before… but it was there. What was that about?

“Okay, let me just see what Kuro-“ 

“No need,” Kuroo’s head dropped on top of Kenma’s, “I’m here.” 

Tsukishima stepped right up behind Shoyo and immediately made a turn to get going towards the sidewalk. “Good- Kageyama’s trying to get on the fucking step ladder again.” 

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing?” Kuroo followed him.

“It  _ is. _ The last time he used it, it buckled and he broke his wrist and I had to do everything.”

Kuroo and Tsukishima took the lead on the way home, falling into a conversation and then walking faster than Kenma and Hinata. Their legs were longer, so of course, they’d get ahead, but Kenma was also just slow in general, not to mention he was tired. He found it nice that Shoyo adjusted his pace to walk behind with Kenma. 

“So,” Shoyo began quietly, dragging out the ‘o’, “you were lying about not playing since high school,  _ right? _ ” 

Kenma felt the side of his lip raise. Sly bastard, flattering him. “I wasn’t. This is really the first time.” 

“You must have been a star player then!” Shoyo put his hands up and faked like he was setting, “you got right on the court and POW! Perfect set! It’s like it came to you naturally.” 

“I never was a good player either. I… I never liked it. It was boring. I played for Kuro and for something to do. We won a lot, we lost some, but it was never challenging. We either dominated or were crushed,” Kenma shrugged. It was true- Volleyball in highschool had all been for college credits in a major he still had no clue what he was doing with and for Kuroo. It was just exhausting. “I’ve never played so anxiously. There’s never been someone on the other team to make me want to play, nobody on the other team was ever passionate. They were like me, just going through the motions. I never cared if we won or lost.”

“But today you looked like you were having fun!” Shoyo said defensively. The tone he used made Kenma smile. 

“Because I was. There… there was a challenge. I wanted to beat Atsumu… you all wanted to win. You put in your all, you all had interesting plays…” 

Shoyo made a noise in the back of his neck that sounded like a strangled scream. His eyes were wide, his pupils the shape of stars. He was ecstatic, full of energy despite having a full day of used energy behind him. Kenma’s words had seemed to be like a shot of caffeine, bringing his happiness levels up and through the roof. Kenma wanted to make him happy like that all the time. 

“I really underestimated you, you know,” Kenma smiled innocently. He hoped Shoyo would have deflated, just so Kenma could build him up… but he didn’t. It somehow was even better when he perked. “I didn’t pick you because I wanted to win, and then Atsumu picked you immediately. I thought he was stupid but you… you really changed my mind.” Kenma turned his head back forward, a turn coming up, but he could still feel Shoyo’s gaze, his excitement, filling the air and turning the oranging sky a brighter shade of citrus. “Those jumps. You’re so fast and.. really strong. I think that dig I pulled off is going to leave a mark for a while. You said you were a spiker before… but you were a blocker today. And your blocks were still great, and effective, even when you were going against someone like Tsukishima or Kuroo. I could never.” 

“Ahaha!” Hinata suddenly boomed, running a few feet ahead and jumping in the air like he had to expend some energy. The air had been filled with joy, and the beat down buildings they passed didn’t look so bad. The streetlamps were now spotlights. The headlights of the cars driving on the street were like magic, all orchestrated by Shoyo Hinata and his radiant presence. Kenma could feed his ego all day. “Kenma!” He stood straight and wiggled his arms, then bounced in a circle. “You’re so good to me!” 

“I’m just being honest.” 

“Oh stop it!” Shoyo put one hand to his cheek and waved the other one, “I can’t take this much! My face is so hot!” 

Kenma managed to catch up with him, and Shoyo fell back into pace, walking and rubbing his cheeks, but his smile remained massive. “You’re so kind… But yeah! I’m a spiker on the college team, but I used to be a middle blocker in high school! There wasn’t any other free middle blockers, so I took it up! Thank you for underestimating me!” 

Kenma felt his own cheeks begin to ache with how much he had to work to not smile too much. He was failing miserably. “You like being underestimated?” Kenma asked, tilting his head Shoyo’s way. Shoyo had his eyes straight to the sky. 

“Of course! Because when they underestimate me, the harder I have to work to prove them wrong. To impress ‘em! I’ll always be underestimated… so it’s so much cooler when I come out better than all of them!” 

Kenma felt his shoulders soften. Shoyo’s expression was genuine as he said this, speaking to the sky like it was a promise. Like he  _ will  _ get to those heights and there’s no chance he won’t be better than  _ everyone.  _ Hearing him like that… seeing him like this. It was hard not to believe him. 

“We’ll just see about that Shoyo,” Kenma smirked, “We’ll see if you can do it.” 

Shoyo’s head snapped to him, and in his eyes, Kenma saw a challenge. Hope, determination, anything under those categories. “I  _ will _ , Kenma. Watch me.” 

Kenma took that as a promise.

* * *

They parted ways at the stairs with a promise to do something together again soon. Kuroo and him now walked up the flights of stairs to their apartment and Kenma’s lack of food and energy was getting to him. He was now aware of how sluggishly his legs were moving and the headache that banged around in the back of his head and the way that everything felt like it was vibrating. He really needed to get a proper meal schedule going, especially if he was going to start being slightly  _ active. _

It was 6:35 pm now. Kuroo was the one to open the door to their apartment, and both of them were greeted by the smell of food cooking. When they walked in further, Kenma saw Akaashi at the stove, stirring around something in a pan. “Kuroo, glad you- Kenma too? I assumed you were at your  _ friend’s _ .” 

“Kenma’s home!?” 

“Hey, ‘Kaashi. Brokuto,” Kuroo greeted for him, sliding into the kitchen. Kenma followed. “Kenma here was actually with me.” 

Bokuto slid in, literally-he was wearing socks and the floor was vinyl- and bounced to a stop. “He was with you? Playing…” Bokuto gasped, “volleyball?” 

“Yep! Kicked ass too! Didn’tcha, kitten?” Kuroo smacked his back as he bent down to grab a soda from the fridge. Kenma grunted. 

“W-Woah!!! That means Kenma can set to me when Akaashi’s not busy! Kenma doesn’t do anything! Kenma!” 

The faux blond groaned as he pulled the coke out and shuffled past the two men broing out and talking about him. “Akaashi… call me for dinner.” 

* * *

  
Kenma fell into his bed with a wide smile stretched across his sunburnt face. He rolled and stared at the ceiling, relishing in his bliss. Today… today was amazing. He didn’t care about his burnt skin, not about his aching muscles or hungry stomach, he didn’t care about the bruises and scrapes he got… he had  _ fun.  _ So much more fun than he’d had in months- in years. All because of Shoyo. The incident that had occurred no longer felt all that had once Shoyo had comforted him. Kenma let out a quiet laugh to himself, sounding crazy in his room alone, just staring at the ceiling. He was crazy for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't play volleyball. Also Noya has his hair down and hasn't grown, if you were wondering why he's so short--- with his hair down, apparently he's 4'10" and that is canon idc what you say, short king


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this one's gonna be short, but thanks so much for all the love on this fic. It kills me to see how nice y'all are, also on my other TsukkiKage fic, people are so nice.
> 
> If you wanna be super nice, you should consider donating here- https://gf.me/u/zbh8ny This is to help support the burial of yet another innocent black life taken from us by police. This man, 23-year-old Casey Goodson was walking home when police shot him three times in the back and he died. The officers admitted that they had the wrong man. His family is in need and really anything would help. 
> 
> Now, a disclaimer. I don't know how Japanese money works, and I'm too bad at math to try. All money in this is expressed in the American way, because I'm a dumb American.

Kenma stared at the date displayed on his phone with a frown and a queasy feeling in his stomach. Under the big white letters telling the time, it was written,  _ Saturday, June 18th _ . He’d been dreading this day for the past week and a half since Shoyo had told him about it. That day. What happened. What was happening.

Shoyo, the man, the myth, the hunky legend, would be celebrating his birthday on the day after this, the 19th. His birthday was actually on the Tuesday, the twenty-first, but nobody is ever free on Tuesdays. So Sunday it was. 

Kenma had agreed to go, along with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi, even though he wasn’t familiar with the last of them. “It’s always great to make more friends!” He had said, but Kenma still regretted ever saying his name to Shoyo. Akaashi was gorgeous. In every way. He had beautiful green eyes, nicely tanned skin that was always natural, curly black hair, a tall slim body, and a face that anybody could die for.  _ Anyone _ . Even the straightest of straight men, the most bigoted of men, would fall for Akaashi Keiji’s eyes. He was just that beautiful. 

Kenma had once introduced Akaashi to a girl he liked. He had been shoving his face with alcohol and riceballs, hunched over an essay and on the brink of tears, in a stained t-shirt and greasy, unshowered hair. She had immediately begun asking Kenma for ways to get with him and that interest was gone. Akaashi had later told Kenma he didn’t like her- she had a bad vibe and he didn’t like the way she walked. Kenma had secretly held it against Akaashi, but the resentment had faded quickly. It still did strike Kenma as bad that a man as perfect as Shoyo would be meeting Akaashi- if Shoyo really did have a charm, who’s to say that Akaashi wouldn’t charm him right back? Who’s to say Shoyo wouldn’t switch teams entirely for the other man and drop Kenma? 

It was happening though, no matter what Kenma wanted or didn’t, it would be happening. So Kenma had to face it. 

He also had to grab him a present, which was an entirely different issue in itself. 

He’d been telling himself to just go out and buy him something stupid, but he didn’t  _ want  _ to. He wanted to give him something fun and good and Shoyo that would seem like something he wants. He couldn’t think of something Shoyo wanted- he seemed to be so happy with everything he had. To please him, Kenma was convinced all someone would have to do is smile at him. 

Kenma wanted to spoil him and splurge on some cute things for the ginger with the money he had gotten from YouTube, but had decided against it. He didn’t want to overstep. But he didn’t want to be too cheap. But he wanted it to have  _ meaning.  _

Kenma put his head to his hands and moaned a long moan. The fuck was he gonna do? Damn his procrastination! 

“Kenma?” There was a light knock on his door, and then he opened it. Kuroo was standing, fixing the badge on his left chest, looking bored in his work uniform, “I’m off. Y-“ 

“What should I get Shoyo?” 

Kuroo stopped messing with the badge and instead lifted his head to meet Kenma’s eyes. “Can you repeat that?” 

“What should I get Shoyo for his birthday?” He asked again, a little quieter now as Kuroo’s lips curled. 

“You  _ still  _ haven’t gotten him something? And you’re planning on it?” Kuroo leaned up against Kenma’s door as if he was using it as a crutch, his surprise making him fake a wobble. “You, who didn’t get Bokuto or Akaashi anything for their birthdays for the past three years? You, who still doesn’t wish your father a happy birthday?  _ You _ , who already agreed to go to a birthday party and want to do  _ more _ ?” 

Kenma swallowed now. He did admit, it was  _ weird  _ that he was doing so much for Shoyo after just meeting him. He didn’t think Kuroo would ever notice or point it out, and here he was. Fucking-

“That good old Hinata charm. I don’t blame you,” Kuroo stood himself upright again, his devious smirk still on, “but you can figure something out, kitten. I already got him something!” 

Kenma mentally let out a sigh of relief. He was actually thankful that Kuroo thought he was painfully heterosexual. 

“Can you put my name on it?” Kenma frowned. He figured that would work- make it seem like he didn’t care  _ too _ much, and not have to go out! It was a win-win, his ‘heterosexuality’ would be less questioned and his inner introvert would bathe in the solitude. 

If only Kuroo liked him. 

“No can do. Bo and I got it together and he’s already annoyed he has to share the tag with me.” 

“ALL YOU DID WAS PAY! I PUT  _ THOUGHT _ IN!” 

“But if you need help, Kageyama’s his friend. He lives with Tsuki and he’s dumb as a stump, he’d help you without thinking it’s weird.”

Kenma bit down on his lip again. He didn’t like the thought of that. He’d seen Kageyama, he hadn’t exchanged words with him, but they both were aware of each other’s existences. And it was made worse by the fact that Kageyama, according to Oikawa, liked Hinata too. He hoped Oikawa had misthought-maybe Hinata had a sister that Kageyama liked- just so it wouldn’t be weird. It wasn’t like there could be  _ three _ men into men that he knew personally. It sounded almost impossible. 

“Whatever Kuro,” Kenma waved him off dismissively, and the ravenette chuckled. 

“Aw, cutting me off so quickly? You know, why don’t I stand here and wait until you grow the balls to tell me who the girl is that yo-“ 

“Punctuality is key for a security guard you know,” Kenma bit, pushing himself up from where he was laying and hitting the off button on his remote. Staying put was not an option, sadly. 

Kuroo glanced at the time and rolled his eyes with a quiet curse. “Yeah- yeah. I’ll get it out of you, kitten. One way or another, I  _ will  _ know.” 

“Suck my dick, Kuro.” 

He popped right back in. “Will you tell me who she-“ 

“ _ Goodbye, Kuro.”  _

* * *

‘So… Kags. Get Shoyo a gift?’ 

‘Kageyama! You don’t know me, but what are some of Shoyo’s favorite things?’ 

‘Buy him a gift and I’ll pay you.’ 

Kenma internally groaned. Damn Kuroo. Damn Bokuto. Damn  _ Shoyo _ ! He hated every step he took down the stairs, every foot closer he got to the apartment he had targeted, the fucking apartment. Maybe if he was lucky, Tsukishima would just give him Kageyama’s number and he could text him. That would be better than looking him in the eye and asking, like a fucking weirdo creep. 

Yeah- yeah good plan. He’d knock, ask Tsukishima for the number, and go. Texting was so much easier that way- no face-offs, no Kageyama finding out Kenma liked Shoyo, no in-person social interaction! He liked that idea. 

Kenma found himself in front of the door, reassuring himself. It would only be a minute, a quick knock, and then-

The door opened before he could pull his fist back down, freezing the half blond in place. 

On the other side, Kageyama stood like a deer in the headlights down at Kenma. 

“Oh hey-“ 

“Hi-“

“Uh-.” 

Kageyama seemed to grit his teeth behind his lips and his Adam’s apple bobbed. Kenma tensed up as well. 

They stared at each other like two socially inept penguins, occasionally trying to chirp up, and then immediately cutting the other off on an accident. Kenma decided to be the bigger man, since he knew this probably would go on forever if he didn’t stop it now, and cleared his throat loudly. “Kageyama… I’m Kenma. I need… help.” 

Kageyama nodded slowly. “Kenma… yeah, I.. I was just about to go to your apartment…” Kageyama managed to choke out, eyes constantly flickering from one of Kenma’s to the other like he could only choose one to look at. 

Kenma, despite the weird staring, was relieved. Kageyama was looking for him- what a… coincidence. 

“Um… same… Did you need something from Kuroo or…?” 

“No,” Kageyama shifted on the balls of his feet, one hand reaching into his pocket. Kenma noticed him messing with something inside it. “I wanted to talk about your setting…? I watched the video. You did well for your first time on sand, but I have some pointers…” 

Right. Volleyball freak, he vaguely remembered Shoyo mentioning that title surrounding him. Even if he couldn’t play, he still acted like he could. Did he ever consider looking into being a trainer? Considering he- wait. Video?

“Video?” Kenma quirked his eyebrow sharply. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Uh-“ Kageyama slid his phone out of his pocket. “I don’t-“ 

“Tobio! Shut the door!”

Kageyama jumped in his skin, and then took a step forward, forcing Kenma back one. He leaned back and yelled an insult, ‘You shut the door, dick!’ and then he shut the door. 

He stood there for a second, frowning at the door like he was waiting for Tsukishima to slam it open and yell back at him, but it didn’t happen. He turned to Kenma again. “Sorry… um, video,” He looked back down to his phone, “I think it was Oikawa. He put it on YouTube and Kei showed it to me.” 

“On YouTube?” Kenma glanced over to see the video now playing, indeed showing the game they played. It was fine- he didn’t really talk during it so… it didn’t matter. It’s not like any of his few crazy fans hellbent on seeing his face would find him through this- they couldn’t magically know enough to find him in that. It was fine. 

“Yeah- I don’t know. It was good though,” Kageyama clicked the phone off and buried it into his pocket again, “I liked watching it. It’s like I’m living… v… v… vaginiously-“ 

“Vicariously-“ 

“Bicuriously-“ 

“Vicariously.” 

“Vicariously, through you. So, can give you tips?”

Kenma sucked on his tongue. It wasn’t like he’d be able to execute any of these tips but, it wouldn’t be harmful to listen. “Okay, um… if you help me with this thing…” 

Kageyama grinned a little like a dog just promised a treat. He really wasn’t that bright, eh? 

* * *

And that’s how Kenma ended up in the back of a Spencer’s, stood next to Kageyama, whom had critiqued him on setting the entire walk there. Now they stood, relatively silent and both staring up at the copious amount of lava lamps, placed uncomfortably closed to multiple vibrators and dildos, packaged lewdly and hanging from the wall.

“Um… maybe he’d like that one,” Kageyama said, pointing upwards and two the right. 

“That’s just an orange dildo.” 

“Oh… well… what about that?” Kageyama moved his finger down and to the left now.

“That’s a double-sided dildo.” 

“They shouldn’t have put these so close,” Kageyama frowned, pulling his hand back to his chest. He seemed to squint, trying to discern which was for sexual stuff and which was not, as if the scantily clad women on the fronts meant nothing to him. “That,” Kageyama reached up and wiggled a package, “this works.” 

“Nope. That’s a Hitachi wand.” 

Kageyama looked back down at Kenma with furrowed eyebrows, and then promptly back up where he began to slide it off, but Kenma reached up and slowly pulled his wrist away. 

“For women. Unless you’re grabbing it for your girlfriend, it isn’t for you.”

“I’m gay,” Kageyama said simply and went on to pointing. 

Kenma paused a second at the declaration. While he half knew, it was still boggling for him to hear it come directly from someone so openly, especially in public, and then move on as if it wasn’t a big thing. Which it wasn’t- it really wasn’t, in the grand scheme of things, but it made Kenma feel good, in a way. Kageyama was so dumb that he didn’t realize how much danger that saying he was gay could get him into. He didn’t feel good that Kageyama could be in danger- but he felt good that it was something someone could get by being too dumb to know. 

“How’s that?” 

Kenma shook off the slight shock of the declaration and followed Kageyama’s finger up to, thankfully, a lava lamp. It was high up, really high up, on the shelves, packaged in pretty orange, yellows, pinks, purples, resembling an early sunrise

The lamp itself was off, but the slight colors he could see were pretty, mixing together well. It was definitely what Shoyo would like- he was a man of bright colors and the day. He  _ was _ the sun. Kenma nodded. “That’s… really good.” Perfect. 

“Cool,” Kageyama nodded to himself, and reached up. His fingers missed it by two inches. He dropped down back to his flat feet and frowned. “It’s high. Maybe I can climb and-“ 

“Let’s not,” Kenma crossed his arm in front of Kageyama’s chest, “Let’s ask the counter guy.”

Kageyama frowned thoughtfully and looked back up to where the lamp was sat. “I could-“ 

“I heard about your bad luck with climbing stuff. I really don’t want to be on Tsukishima’s bad side,” Kenma began a walk towards the counter, beckoning Kageyama to follow him. 

They found a guy, much taller than Kageyama, standing and assorting pins. He had long-ish black hair and fox-like eyes, Kenma had sworn he’d seen him before. His pin revealed his name as Suna. 

Suna raised his head from his current project and quirked a dark eyebrow towards Kenma and Kageyama. 

Kenma bit his lip for a moment, hoping Kageyama would pipe up and say something, but it never happened. Kenma cleared his throat, deciding he had to grow some balls and say something if he wanted to go home tonight. 

“Can you get us something?” He asked, briefly pointing his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the lamps. 

Suna glanced behind them and nodded, “Sure,” dropping a Hello Kitty on top of the face of some actor, then rounding the counter and following Kenma and Kageyama to the back. Regrettably, Kageyama stood dangerously far into sex toy territory, not that he could tell the difference, but still making Kenma nudge that was as well so Suna could stand. The worker, however, was awfully unphased. 

“So, whaddya two want? Dildos or the lamps?” Suna hummed, reaching behind to grab a step stool Kenma hadn’t noticed before. They could have just used the fucking step stool! Well… that was a lie. Apparently, Kageyama had still hurt himself on the step stool. 

“Lamp. Please- that one.” Kenma pointed at it, and Suna grabbed it down with ease-not using the step stool, the privilege of some guys- and handing it right back down. 

“That all?” 

“Yeah,” Kenma looked over the package just to make sure it was right. It wasn’t overly pricey- it was a good $30 for the size and seeming quality of it. Sunrise Glory, it was called, over a pretty background of the sun coming up over the water. It wasn’t all that magnificent of a gift, but it was cool and it was something and it was reminiscent of Shoyo’s entire character. He didn’t actually know if Shoyo would take the time to stand back and appreciate this but… the thought was there, and that’s all that mattered to Kenma. 

The way back to the apartments was filled with more of Kageyama’s raving about volleyball, no talk of Shoyo besides the last instance where Kenma decided to ask him what he’d gotten the ginger. 

He expected something grander- something declaring his love or something that spoke to Shoyo’s character in a great way since- after all- Kageyama supposedly liked Shoyo too. 

But no. 

“I got him a bath mat,” Kageyama hummed as he reached into his pocket, “I thought it was cool. It had a dog on it.” 

* * *

S: YOU AND BAKAGEYAMA ARE FRIENDS? 

WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME???!2!?3!5!3 

WE SHOULD DO SOMETHING ALL TOGETHER 

DO YOU KNOW MY PTHER DRIENDS? 

HOW MANY OF MY FROEMDS DO YOU KNOW? YO UR SO COOL 7393,&:9:82:!

Kenma looked down at the messages on his phone with a smile. They all came rapid fire a few minutes after he entered his apartment. He waited a moment to get into his room and settle on his bed before he responded. 

K: *you’re

and I don’t think you could call kageyama and I friends 

he just wanted to ask some questions

S: YOU SHOULD BE FRIENDS!

He’s a huge jerk face normally and he’s scary looking but I think you’d make good friends! 

K: you think so?

S: I know so!

K: I’ll consider it… how’d you know?

S: Tsukishima told me! I didn’t wanna bother you so I waited until kageyama came back! 

K: thank you, but you wouldn’t have bothered me, I multi task

Kenma put down his phone and let it receive the messages as he wrapped up the lava lamp. They texted back and forth for a few hours, about really anything. Shoyo was the one to end it by texting, 

S: Im sleepy now. I should go to bed! I had a good time talking to you! I’m so excited to see you tomorrow! Ninight!

K: me too. Sleep well, Shoyo.

He went to bed after that, feeling almost as glad as a kid on Christmas Eve. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there y’all, sorry this took a while. This chapter is oddly long? I don’t know how it turned out like that but wow. Thanks for all your comments! Also, y'all like the name change?
> 
> Now, here’s a heavy subject. The death penalty. It’s flawed, really fucking flawed because America’s justice system is super fucking flawed. Many innocent people have been victim to this. Including, just a couple days ago, Brandon Bernard. While yes, some crimes deserve death, such as rape of children and mass murder, but we CANNOT EFFECTIVELY TELL if a person is guilty or not. Even if we cold, the government is too flawed to listen and will never listen. To abolish the death penalty will save the lives of so many potentially innocent people, like Brandon Bernard, and like soon, Pervis Payne. This is a petition that you can sign and quite possibly save a life, and so many, by signing. 
> 
> https://sign.moveon.org/petitions/abolish-the-death-penalty-3 
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Anxiety, talk about eating, f-slur

Kenma wasn’t sure what he was expecting out of this birthday party in the hours leading up to it. He half expected it to be like the other one was, with random people all about and getting wasted and doing lines off each other’s backs, but he also half expected a small, humble gathering of just a few of Hinata’s closest friends- and while he’d like that, he had to remind himself that he wasn’t  _ that _ close to Shoyo at all. 

The party was at the same location as the other one, Atsumu and Osamu’s kind of fratty place where they lived with a few other guys. The door was open, but the front yard was empty- no passed out half-naked girls to be seen, or any beer cans. Even inside, there  _ were _ half-naked people, but they were all in bathing suits and dressed in towels and similar summer wear, all holding nonalcoholic drinks and talking and dancing rather than grinding and stripping. The music playing was a lot less intense, it was just fun and upbeat.

He saw enough familiar faces, people who went to his university and people outside it- people he’d known from high school who played volleyball too.  _ Small world, _ he couldn’t help but think as he waded away from Goshiki, talking excitedly to an uninterested girl. He’d known Goshiki from highschool too. 

They walked past the kitchen, where Osamu was talking with a girl with red hair, baking a cake, and cooking food. Ushijima was assisting, looking clueless as the redhead pointed him around with a stupid grin on her face. 

They made their way through and to the backyard, where people were swimming around and dancing to the music playing from the house. There were even more familiar faces- Oikawa, Sugawara, Matsukawa. He saw Aone, he saw Futakuchi, he saw Asahi. Most of the people that Kenma had met ever- besides his parents, though by the crowds, he couldn’t be sure- there was a possibility. 

Kuroo whistled once they had stepped fully into the backyard and drank in the sheer amount of people there. “See Kenma? I told you. Everybody loves him.” 

“Yessir! He’s got so many friends,” Bokuto grinned, “this is like, half the town!” 

“I don’t think that’s possible, this is a big town,” Akaashi pointed out, “maybe it’s…” he scanned the crowd and then shrugged, “maybe a twelfth.” 

Kuroo tsked. “Oh, Akaashi. Quit trying to do math, you’re an English major. This town has to have about t-“ 

“It’s a joke,” Akaashi reached over and placed his hand over Kuroo’s mouth for a moment, and pulled it away before Kuroo could presumably lick it. “So.. Shoyo. I think I should meet him, shouldn’t I? Can you point him out?” 

“If we can find him,” Kuroo chuckled, extending his neck to see over the sea of people. Kenma glanced between the bodies too, hoping for a sign of bright orange hair, or anything, but it seemed like this party for Shoyo was going on without Shoyo. 

A little anxiety crept into Kenma’s stomach as he nuzzled his present onto the table, beside a poorly wrapped one that looked suspiciously like a supposed bath mat. He didn’t want to be here without seeing Shoyo- it might make him feel bad.

“Oh- I can find him!” Bokuto grinned, “just wait!” 

The owl-like man began gulping in a large breath. 

“Bokuto-“ Kenma warning, knowing what was to come, “please don’t-“ 

“HINATA!” 

“Hinata?”

“BO?” 

Kenma felt his mouth gape as Hinata broke through the crowd, smiling out of nowhere, with a baby on his hip in a bathing suit and with floaties. 

“Oh... Hinata,” Akaashi smiled, “I didn’t know his first name.” 

_ Jesus fucking Christ, he does know everyone, _ Kenma thought, glancing over to the smiling Akaashi,  _ well, at least he didn’t have to worry about him being in love with Akaashi.  _

Shoyo bounded over and gave Bokuto a strong one-sided hug, and then bumped fists with Kuroo, and then looked at Akaashi. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming!” Hinata smiled, reaching out his free arm to hug Akaashi now. Bokuto cooed at the baby while he did. 

Finally, Shoyo turned to Kenma in all his suntanned, muscular glory, the baby on his hip seeming to enhance his good boy look and making Kenma’s heart do some sort of awkward twitch. “Kenma!” 

“Shoyo,” Kenma replied in a soft voice, the name making his lips curl unintentionally, “happy birthday.” 

“Aw, thanks!” Hinata grinned, bouncing the baby up and then reaching out for a hug. Kenma returned it, briefly leaning into him. His skin was damp but warm, and Kenma wished he could have frozen that moment in time, but Hinata was pulling away all too quickly. “Did you bring your swimsuit?” 

Kenma nodded, tugging at the swimshorts he wore, “I did.” 

“Oh great!” Shoyo beamed, “I thought I forgot to tell you! I’ll swim with you once she goes home!” 

Shoyo nodded back down at the baby, which Kenma was now fully realizing existed. 

She had dark hair that was put into two awkward pigtails and fat cheeks, as well as rolls upon rolls. She wore purple floaties and a purple bathing suit. Her most noticeable feature, most definitely, was the wide, intense brown eyes that stared directly back at him, long, dark lashes framing them. Her little lips were pulled in a straight line, making her the most monotone looking baby Kenma had ever met. She looked a lot like… Kenma smiled. 

“Tadame…” He mumbled, putting his hand out to her. She acknowledged that was her name by taking one of his fingers and squeezing it a couple of times before she finally just bit it. He smiled and pulled his hand away. “That’s not nice,” He whispered to her, pinching her cheeks. He’d always liked kids- he’d babysat as a side job once upon a time and found great joy in holding baby hands and crushing arrogant little boys in video games. His favorite kids to babysit were always year old babies- especially the fat ones and the sweet ones. Like Tadame. 

Kuroo gasped. “That’s Tadame?” Kuroo leaned down with Kenma and put his hand out now. Tadame grabbed it, and then her eyes widened even further than what they seemed to rest at, probably amazed at the size difference between Kuroo’s and Kenma’s. “She’s grown so much!” 

Tadame was Atsumu’s daughter. She’d been born in May of the last year, and Kenma had met her a few months after. Kuroo had then dragged him to her first birthday last month, but she still looked much different. Still a lot like her mother and Kenma hoped it stayed that way. Her father was a dick.

“There’s my princess!” 

Almost on cue, Atsumu appeared, putting out his arms for the baby girl. She returned the gesture, leaning away from Shoyo and gurgling, “dapa,” as her father got closer. He snatched her away and did some cute baby shit, cooing at her, that Kenma still couldn’t believe he was capable of.

“Hey, Tsum-Tsum! Why’s she here?” Bokuto leaned in and took her little hands, beginning to wave them around. She didn’t make much noise, only watched him while spitting up on herself. 

“Her mommy had an appointment, but now she’s here, gonna bring Ame to her Granny’s. Are ya excited, babe?” Atsumu wiggled his fingers into her fat cheek, making her entire face jiggle. She seemed bothered for a second, but then put her hand in her mouth. Atsumu smiled warmly. “Good enough. Sho,” Atsumu nodded up, “Kita wanted t’say happy birthday. C’mout and see her.” 

Hinata brightens up. “She wanted to see me?” He squeaked, “She's welcome to come swim! You know, if-“ 

“Good try,” Atsumu rolled his eyes, “she’s leavin’. And mine. C’mon, dope.” The blond grabbed Hinata and tugged him. 

Hinata puffed out his cheeks, “you know I’d never!! I can ogle still, you know- Kenma!” Hinata turned his head behind, towards Kenma, and shot him a grin, “Get ready! I’ll come grab you!” And then he was whisked away. 

Kenma weakly smiled as Shoyo was dragged away by Atsumu. He wasn’t all that heartbroken about what he’d said. He was kind of jealous that Hinata was so excited to see her, sure, but after hearing that he just wanted to see her swimming… it was all good. Because Kenma did too. He appreciated big tits like any self-respecting woman-lover and Kita was one of the women he’d shamelessly pay to watch her in a bikini. 

“What a shame,” Kuroo sighed, tugging Kenma’s attention back to him. Kuroo was one of those kinds of guys too. 

Bokuto and Akaashi had relocated wherever, no longer in Kenma’s field of vision. He assumed they were probably getting food, or in Akaashi’s case, trying to find the closest drink.

He figured he didn’t have to wait for them- they could do their own thing- and so he turned to where he could put the little bag they’d brought, of towels and their phones. Akaashi had suggested the bag- Kenma thought it was a little stupid, but he’d been stuck with the bag on his shoulder, even though he had a stupidly heavy present as well. 

He found a chair, placed in a sunny spot beside the pool and close to the fence. There were four others around it, all occupied by something or other, this one was the only free one. 

He began walking towards it, Kuroo following with a quiet comment that Kenma didn’t care enough to commit to memory, and he plopped the bag down. He checked to see if his phone was in there, and it was, so he tucked it under all the towels, and then leaned it back. Kuroo was standing and watching him, his shirt discarded and hands on his hips. 

“Picked a good spot, kitten,” Kuroo smirked, tilting his head towards the chair to their left. In it, Kiyoko laid on her back, suntanning peacefully. She was in a small black bikini, hair pulled behind her. 

At his words, her eye opened and she looked at him, quirking an eyebrow. 

Kuroo looked pleased. “G’day babe, you look great. You free tonight?” 

Kiyoko scanned him, scoffed, and then went back to her suntanning. He made a joking offended noise, “so cold!” And she continued to ignore him. 

“You’re such a creep,” Kenma rolled his eyes, sliding his sweatshirt off and dropping it on top of Kuroo’s shirt. He kept the white t he wore on. 

“I’m a man of refined taste, kitten,” Kuroo put his hand to his chest, declaring himself as such when he wasn’t. Not in the slightest. If it had a vagina, Kuroo liked it. He’d bang any girl from a zero to ten. He did have a type; Big tits, long hair, intelligent. But when he wasn’t looking for  _ love _ , even when he was, he’d fuck any girl who’d say yes. 

“Right,” Kenma nodded, dismissing Kuroo’s words and watching the pool. It was mainly guys inside it, muscular, athletic type guys, making Kenma feel a little insecure where he stood, despite not removing his shirt. It was a good sight still- they were all, for the most part, handsome, and Kuroo fit right into that crowd, as well as Bokuto and Shoyo. He felt out of place. He felt his skin begin to itch. And he was suddenly hyper aware of the way he stood, and the shirt he wore, and the shorts- his legs, scrawny and sticklike, and his wrists so small he could wrap his pinkie to his thumb. He was aware of the way his hair was held up, pulled back by an elastic with it still touching the back of his neck. He looked like a girl amongst all these  _ men.  _ He might as well put on a bikini and jump in, right? 

He crossed his arms over his stomach. It was soft, and he kicked himself for being lazy, for sitting around and doing nothing, for avoiding that extra 10-minute walk to his apartment, for eating that apple when he’d already had supper. He felt guilty for not following Bokuto on his morning runs or going with Kuroo to the gym. 

Were his shorts too short? Maybe he should cover up his toes. Maybe he should put on Kuroo’s shirt, to look bigger, maybe he should run off to get a haircut and come back, or maybe he should just leave. 

Leave. Leave. There were so many people- he didn’t really have to be here, right? It wasn’t like he was the main event. Nobody knew him, nobody would care if he just left. This was Shoyo’s day, and Shoyo didn’t need him here. Shoyo didn’t want him here. Shoyo-

“Kenma!” 

Kenma hadn’t realized he was digging his nails into his skin until he was raising his hand to wave back at the ginger, jogging towards him with his own hand up. 

“Kenma,” He repeated as he bounced to a stop, “are you gonna swim?” 

“I will,” Kenma grabbed his bicep now, messing with his shorts and holding his right arm tight against his side. 

“Aren’t you gonna take your shirt off?” Hinata jerked his hand towards the white t, then gestured back to his lack of shirt. 

“Kitten doesn’t take his shirt off ever. You should see him when I break into his shower,” Kuroo butt into the conversation from behind, where Kenma had forgotten he was. He walked between the two and turned around, “he goes all, ‘no, Kuroo, don’t look at me..!’” He shrunk, covering his chest with one arm and cupping his balls with the other. He wiggled his hips a few times. “He’s shy!” 

“I don’t-“ 

“Well, not everyone’s gonna be super confident in their bodies! I used to be embarrassed about my body cause I was always around really big and muscular dudes, and I was like, scrawny! I wasn’t shy, but it was humiliating,” Hinata grinned at Kenma lopsidedly, “I had no reason to be though. Bodies are different! I realized it pretty early on, so I was okay. But then I began working out so much more, and I hit puberty, and I ate a bunch, and look at me now!” He spanned his arms out, pointing down at his abs, “I love it!” 

“I don’t think puberty’s gonna do anything for me,” Kenma smiled slightly, watching as Shoyo flexed, “but thank you, Shoyo.” 

“Jus’ spittin’ facts!” Shoyo put his hand to his mouth and moved his hand like he was a DJ, mumbling, “wickywicky!” It was so uncool but cute. 

Kuroo suddenly ran past them, and then ran past them again, screaming, “canon ball!” and then doing just that, creating a massive splash that reached a few people outside the pool. 

Shoyo stopped being uncool and looked with starry eyes at what Kuroo had done. “That was such a big splash! Can I splash that big? Kenma, watch!” 

The ginger zoomed in a circle around Kenma and shot like a bullet towards the pool, crying, “WHOOPEE!” before smashing into the water, the splash also going far, and Kenma couldn’t tell if it was bigger or not. 

Shoyo didn’t turn to ask him. He was suddenly being dragged under by an angry Kageyama, yelling at the man for almost crushing him, and Atsumu cheering the attempted murder on. 

Kenma grinned a little at the spectacle but found himself stuck in a frown again. Without Shoyo, he felt small again. 

Kenma tiptoed over to the side of the pool where there were the least people, and hesitantly sat down. The water was cool, not frigidly cold, but a nice kind of cold. He swirled his feet in circles and rubbed his heels against the pool’s wall. God, he felt like a loser. 

He dipped his head down and soaked in the rays the sun beat onto the back of his neck. He wasn’t wearing sunscreen. But it wasn’t hurting yet. What hurt was his chest, constricting, but he was trying to breathe through it.  _ Focus on the water, Kenma, _ he told himself,  _ the water and the music. You’re fine.  _

He didn’t feel fine. 

He knew it was narcissistic, but he felt like everyone was watching him now. Judging him for not going in, or maybe judging him for even putting a limb in at all.  _ No one wants a nasty fucking faggot in with them.  _ He lifted his left foot above the water, and then immediately felt disgusting upon seeing it, dainty and girly. He slid it back down, and looked around. Nobody was turned his way… no one would see his foot. It didn’t matter.. for now. What if they saw his foot? They’d think it was gross and he’d get ridiculed. But if he took it out, he’d have to walk to put on his shoes and that would leave his footprints, which was even worse, and now there were three other people near his chair. 

He shrunk a little more. 

He should have never come. He should have left the present on the front step and bolted, dove into the bushes, and waited until he could sneak out, he should have just said he had a thing today. He shouldn’t be here, sitting at this pool, surrounded by these people with his feet out and inside the water, looking like just a flat, boyish girl. Kenma drew in a breath so sharp that it made his chest hurt. He wanted to go ho-

His thought was cut off by a hand gripping his foot, and suddenly he was sliding forward, losing his balance and falling straight into the pool with a weight dragging him down. He squeezed his eyes shut just before his head was dragged under and water rushed his ears. 

_ This is it. I’m dead. They’re committing a hate crime against me and I’m gonna drown here, in front of everyone, and they’ll make a party game out of hiding my body. Goodbye world. Goodbye Shoyo. I’m dying. I’m drowning. I’m dead.  _

He wasn’t dead. 

Almost as quickly as he’d been pulled down, he was jerked again, upwards this time with a body gripping his waist. He shot to the sky, looking somewhat like a fish and a wet cat as he gasped for breath, the front parts of his hair sticking to his face and blinding him until he could shove them back and rub his eyes. He coughed a little, expelling the little water he had inhaled.

“I’m sorry!” 

Kenma blinked, then blinked again, and turned his head downwards. Shoyo stared up at him with a smile that said he wasn’t sorry at all and wet hair that made him look breathtaking. 

“Kuroo dared me too. And you looked a little down.” 

Kenma had to wait a minute before his brain caught up with his heart, which was currently trying to beat Michael Phelps in a swim race. Shoyo was holding him, he came to realize, with one arm around his waist and the other under his ass, nearly holding it. Shoyo’s pecs were pressed right into him, Kenma could feel the warmth from them right up against his belly, and he didn’t even care that Shoyo could probably feel how it squished. All his bad thoughts burned away when he met Shoyo’s wide brown eyes, over his rosy red cheeks and framed by cute red lashes that were like little swords, stabbing at all the negativity that tried to come Kenma’s way. He felt safe here, raised above the water, towards the sun, by the sun himself. He wasn’t insecure. He paid no mind to the other eyes, the only ones that mattered were right in front of him. Kenma found solace in their positioning, in Shoyo’s warmth, in his eyes, in his arms. 

Kenma blinked back down to Earth. Sounds became a little clearer again, and he was still in Shoyo’s arms, the ginger still looking up at him and awaiting a reply. Kenma soaked in the words he vaguely remembered and blushed. “It’s... fine,” He muttered, slowly lowering his hands onto Shoyo’s shoulders. The ginger smiled at this. 

“Well good. I didn’t want you to try and kill me like Kageyama tried to!” Hinata smiled and bounced him, which Kenma took as a sign that he wasn’t being put down any time soon. He lifted his legs and wrapped them around Shoyo’s waist, hoping it would, in some way, make himself a little lighter. Shoyo didn’t seem affected either way. 

“It’s good to see you survived.” 

“Mhm!” Shoyo brightened, twirling them in a circle. “Do you know how to swim?” 

“I do. I just… didn’t get in because I was shy,” Kenma lifted his gaze to see the other guys, minding their own businesses, playing random games amongst themselves, or talking. He saw Tsukishima and Kageyama play fighting, hitting each other with noodles. It seemed to get pretty serious in a second and suddenly they seemed to be trying to kill each other with neon pink foam sticks. A few feet away from them, Kuro, Yaku, and Oikawa were engaged in conversation, Oikawa sitting outside the pool, looking towards the two fighting. 

“Shy? All the guys are nice here! No reason to be shy!” Shoyo chuckled a little, still bouncing Kenma, though he’d stopped spinning and began shifting between his feet. 

Kenma felt his lips tug a little, he didn’t know if he wanted them down or up, so instead he rubbed a little water droplet on Shoyo’s shoulder. “I just… I felt out of place. I guess.” 

“Out of place?” Shoyo’s rocking stopped and his grip tightened, bouncing Kenma up. “No! I wanted you here the most of all of everyone!” 

“Most of all?” Kenma repeated before he could stop himself. His heart fluttered. 

Shoyo went red. “Y-Yeah! Everyone-“ He seemed to tear his eyes away, but he was still blushing, “Hey- Hey look. Wanna get revenge on Kuroo?” 

Kenma brushed it off. He probably got too bro-ey. Nothing to it. He just… cared a lot… Kenma didn’t brush it off. He saved it to a little pocket in his mind to review later, and followed Hinata’s eyes. 

“Revenge?” 

“I’ll throw you at him!” Shoyo declared, suddenly grabbing onto Kenma’s legs and beginning to detach them. Kenma’s eyes widened a little. 

“Are you sure you can? Is that a good idea?” Kenma looked up at Kuroo, still talking to the two, back turned to him. 

“Of course! Grab him and pull him under! It’ll be fun. Now let go,” Hinata moved him so he was forced to let go, turning him almost like a missile. He began to rock Kenma back and forth. 

“Three,” 

“Shoyo, are you-“

“Two,” 

“Shoyo this-“ 

“One!” 

And like that, Kenma found himself flying, arms flailing out in a very graceful manner. He was headed straight for Kuroo. Well… now or never he guessed. 

Kenma put his arms out, and the second he managed to latch onto something, he pulled. 

Kuroo slipped and fell back, going down with Kenma. Unlike Kuroo, however, he managed to find his footing, and put his weight into shoving Kuroo under the water. 

Oikawa lifted his legs out of the pool with a quick, “hey! You’re splashing, you know.” 

While Yaku let out a laugh. “I think that's the most force I’ve ever seen you put into anything,” he smirked, “but you might wanna get away while you can.” 

Kenma took that advice, releasing Kuroo’s head and beginning to bounce away since they were still in the low end. Shoyo was bouncing toward him too, laughing and pumping his fist. 

“That was g-“ 

“Oh, no ya don’t, kitten!” 

Kenma found himself yanked back by his shirt, being shoved under. 

What ensued was the greatest birthday party pool fight of the century. 

After Kuroo had dunked him, Kenma had managed to bite him and get away but found himself faced with an overexcited and revved up Yamamoto. 

He was tackled into another water fight, pool noodles now brought out as Kuroo battled Hinata and Bokuto tried to sneak up on Yaku. Hinata and Bokuto had joined a team and forced the noodles away. But then Yaku and Kuroo had merged, Yaku climbing onto Kuroo’s shoulders, and that’s how Kenma began to be apart of a way-too-aggressive battle of chicken fighting, forced against his will onto Yamamoto’s shoulders. 

Bokuto and Hinata had pushed them down once. Tanaka and Nishinoya had won twice. Asahi and Sugawara won three times and Kuroo and Yaku had triumphed over them four times. Kenma and Yamamoto were losing, due to the fact Kenma, instead of actually trying, was busy screaming at Yamamoto to put him down, while Yaku and Kuroo reigned supreme. 

That was until another foe joined the fight, awfully smug and horribly tall, Semi sat on the shoulders of a dark ginger, and together, they easily took down all the competition with ease, none of them were allowed to get back up once Semi got them down. Kenma didn’t know if it was the height, or maybe the leg muscles on that guy, but they won. 

Yamamoto had finally relented and let Kenma down, which earned them a wicked smirk from Semi. Kuroo too let Yaku down and Hinata had bounced over to them. They congregated as the ginger bent down to get Semi off him. 

The minute he straightened, Semi pressed a kiss to the tall ginger’s lips, which he seemed to accept with ease and pleasure. 

Beside him, Yamamoto made a strangled noise. “What th-“ 

He fell forward as Kuroo smacked his head down. “Don’t be a dick,” Kuroo reprimanded as Yamamoto resurfaced. 

Kenma internally smiled at this, but couldn’t think much about it as Hinata suddenly left his side, wading quickly over and beginning to talk to them with an ecstatic expression. He couldn’t hear him, but based on the large movements he made and the hand gestures, some consisted of thumbs pointed upwards, he assumed it was all good. 

_ The gays are multiplying _ , Kenma thought to himself with an internal chuckle,  _ the shameless gays, at least _ . Kenma hadn’t known about gay people until he was almost 13, he’d only known he was weird for finding girls  _ and  _ boys pretty. And now, he almost exclusively liked guys, but he did like girls too, he was just very specific with his type in them. He saw rare representation of gay men in Japanese media, the only that he saw being terrible yaoi made for girls. If he wanted any, he could find an American film, but those too were incredibly scarce. He saw even less people- he hadn’t ever  _ seen _ a guy kiss a guy, he’d only experienced it for himself. Seeing this… he found himself smiling too much. 

Shoyo, too, probably had never seen it. He may have never even seen a man kiss a man on film, maybe  _ his  _ only consumed gay media was lesbian porn- if he was into that. 

Semi suddenly threw his head back with a laugh, and the dark ginger said something, something that prompted Shoyo to jolt, then blush, and his head whipped around. 

Their eyes met for a quick moment, Shoyo with wide ones, his face painted a brilliant red, and his mouth moving with words Kenma couldn’t decipher. And then his mouth stopped. And he whipped back around and fell onto Semi, covering his nose and mouth. Semi then leaned over him and pat his head, laughing with a quick glance spared to Kenma, and then he looked down again at Hinata and said something with a snarky grin. The ginger sunk further on Semi, holding his hips and laughing, his face still red. 

Kenma furrowed his brows.  _ What was that?  _

“Shoyo!” A feminine voice sang, turning Kenma’s attention her way. 

It was the redhead from the kitchen, her body turned towards Osamu, posing like that one meme of Will Smith at his wife, but instead of a wife, it was the cake in Osamu’s hands. 

Shoyo gasped and began to hop bouncing to the side of the pool closest to her. “Tendou!” He cheered, climbing out and running up to her. “It’s so cool! Thank you!” He grabbed her and gave her a kiss, hard and right on the lips, and she laughed as she pet his back. It was the most romantically platonic interaction he’d ever seen. 

“I did it too,” Osamu pointed out, walking to a table with a place cleared out for the cake, his twin heading over to help him out with it. 

“Of course!” Shoyo laughed and waited until the cake was down to capture Osamu in a hug. Osamu hugged back, and Atsumu seemed to take the liberty of hugging as well. The twins sandwiched the ginger. 

‘Tendou’, he assumed her name was, began leading a very enthusiastic and overdramatic version of Happy Birthday. 

Kenma took himself out of the pool at this time, not participating in the singing. He used the steps, then wobbled over to the lawn chair and grabbed the towel that Kuroo had called dibs on, and wrapped it around himself before sitting down on the lawn chair. 

Kiyoko had since left, and was going up with a group of a few people he recognized. Noya, Asahi, Kageyama, there was Daichi and Tanaka and Yamaguchi, the blond girl-Yachi?- as well as a blond guy, another bald guy, and some guy with grey hair, who was pulling along a reluctant looking Tsukishima.

The group surrounded him and the cake, and Shoyo smiled like a kid on Christmas as they talked to him, moved around him, and wished him a happy birthday. Was that his old team? Kenma could only guess since he knew for a fact that more than half of them did play volleyball. 

He watched as the grey-haired man slipped forward and gave Hinata a big, bone-crushing hug and then hit him- it looked painful, but Shoyo smiled through it- and then grabbed the knife and began cutting the cake. He slid the first piece over to Shoyo, then leaned in. He must have whispered something because the ginger’s face blew red, and Daichi was pulling the grey-haired man back with a disappointed expression.

Kenma looked away from the scene as they began handing out pieces of cake, and the small group dispersed again. Shoyo went off and got lost from Kenma’s vision in the crowd, so he took his phone out from the bottom of the bag and opened it, swiping through the apps for some games. He was debating whether to play Pac-Man or Candy Crush when his peripheral vision was invaded by Kuroo and then there was a cake shoved between him and his screen. 

Kenma leaned away, but Kuroo pushed back, the cardboard plate digging into his cheek. Kenma huffed. “Kuro, I don’t like cake,” He deadpanned with the lie, “go away.” 

“You love cake, kitten. C’mon, you haven’t ate today,” Kuroo moved in front of him and used his his foot to reach for Kenma’s phone. Kenma put it back in the bag before they could touch. 

“I’m not hungry,” He said, this not being a lie. He had a small appetite, he never exactly got  _ hungry  _ until later in the day. He liked eating, occasionally, but at such a large function, he’d feel awkward. 

“You’re the size of a stick,” Kuroo nudged again, “a  _ towel _ looks massive on you. My  _ towel. _ Towels can’t look massive!” 

“I’m average-sized.” 

“For a hobbit?” 

“You're just a giant.” 

“Eat the cake, kitten.” 

“No, Kuro.” 

“Eat.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No!” 

“Yes!” 

“It’s good.” 

Their mini argument, or stubbornness battle, was broken by Shoyo’s voice, appearing somewhere behind Kenma for a moment, before being by his side. He had a plate in his hands, gladly munching down on it. He had a little bit of frosting on the side of his lip that made him look 10x as cute as he usually did. 

“Good…?” Kenma hummed, reaching up and taking the plate Kuroo had brought him, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Shoyo cheered as Kenma gathered a small sliver on his fork, damming the large slice Kuroo had got, and then slid it into his mouth. 

The second it hit his tongue, his mouth exploded with flavor. It was chocolatey, but not overwhelmingly, and it was perfectly soft and solid. The frosting was the right kind of sugary, very sugary, but not going over a limit. He tasted little chocolate chips as well, which were the best type of chocolate he’d ever had. He was always more of a pie guy but  _ god _ , this… this was- 

“Amazing, huh?” Shoyo smiled, placing his now empty plate down on the lawn chair beside Kenma’s thigh, “Tendou made it! She’s amazing! Osamu helped, but I think Tendou did most of it. She’s a… chocolate… ear… or something! Trying to be! She’s super cool!” 

“You think so highly of everyone,” Kenma smiled softly. To him, the girl had been a bit much. She was loud, and she had wide creepy red eyes that peered into his soul even though she’d never looked directly at him. He’d just gotten  _ weird kid  _ vibes from her, even if she was very beautiful. And here Shoyo was, having kissed her and thanked her, and then continued praising her like a deity. But he did that with  _ everyone.  _ He was the embodiment of kindness and belief, in himself, in others. He thought that everyone was good, or had potential. It was… aweing. He wanted to tell Shoyo that… but he wouldn’t. The ginger began talking. 

“Of course I do!” Shoyo smiled, “Everyone is so great! Everyone I know! They’re all so amazing and stuff and so good and- well. Not  _ everyone! _ Like- Hitler sucks! And so does Trump! But you know what I mean.” 

Kenma did. Shoyo believed in  _ good  _ people. He was probably a man who would never judge a book by its cover, one who waited until he saw wrong to call it wrong. An optimistic way to be, but nonetheless amazing. Kenma made himself chuckle. “Are you sure, Shoyo? You  _ did  _ say everyone.” 

Shoyo whined, a long, droning, “Kenma!” Shoyo leaned his head on top of Kenma’s, “not like that! You  _ know. _ ”

“I  _ don’t  _ know, Sho-yo,” Kenma watched as Shoyo took Kenma’s cake. “You just sound-“ 

Hinata took Kenma’s cake and placed it down on his empty one, and then suddenly hugged Kenma. “You know what I mean,” The ginger said lowly, sounding like he was trying to be intimidating, but Kenma could hear his smile. 

“No, I really don’t Shoyo. You just said that you think Trump is an a-SSSSHOYO!” Kenma’s teasing morphed into horrified shrieks when Shoyo suddenly lifted him, heaving Kenma’s body in the air like it weighed nothing, and walking towards the pool. Oh- oh shit. 

“Shoyo!” Kenma pleaded, reaching up and grabbing into ginger locks, “Shoyo, no, no don’t. I just-“ 

“Say it!” Shoyo demanded, shifting his weight between his feet and swaying Kenma in his arms, a little more closer to the pool and out of control each time. 

“Sho!” 

Kenma found his wrist being tugged away from where he was holding on, and he let out another shriek. “Shoyo!” 

“Say it!” The ginger barked again, but it was disrupted by a laugh in the middle, “Say you’re sorry!” 

“I’m sorry!” Kenma cried out, digging his nails into Shoyo’s back for more support, even though he felt Shoyo’a muscles flexing around him, holding him in place. 

“And?” 

“I get what you meant!” 

“Whoop! Good job,” Hinata tugged him back, beginning a walk to the chair. Then he promptly turned on his heel and began his walk back to where he was by the pool. “Do you want me to let go?”

“Yes!” 

“Now?” He leaned forward so his front was hanging over the water.

Kenma shrieked again. “No- NO!” 

After what felt like too dreamy and too long to be real, Shoyo placed Kenma back down on his lawn chair. Then further went and handed his cake back to him. 

“Are you having a good time?” Shoyo asked as he picked up his empty plate now, crushing it on itself and glancing behind him. 

“I am. I’m really surprised at how big this party is. You have a lot of friends,” Kenma marveled, cutting himself a tiny piece again and beginning to eat his cake again. He almost wanted seconds, but instead, he savored it.

“Of course I do! I love meeting people- I’m sad not all of them could make it. I stayed for a bit in Brazil! I have friends from there, too.” 

Kenma smiled. He wasn’t surprised. 

“I bet that anywhere you go, you become the most popular person.” 

“That’s the plan!” Hinata reached over and lightly pat Kenma’s cheek and warmth bloomed from the area. He never wanted to wash that cheek again. “I’m gonna go grab some more cake! When you leave, say bye, okay? Or anytime! Come say hi! Even if you just miss me.” 

And with that and a wink, Shoyo bounced towards the table, depositing his trash in a bin, and then doing as he told Kenma, and grabbing more cake. 

Kenma looked away and brushed his fingers on the area where Shoyo’s hand had graced. It tingled, still buzzing from the effect of the contact, still filling Kenma with happiness. He allowed himself to imagine the luxury of Shoyo kissing it, but the image became too much, and he had to shovel a bite down of cake to keep down the squeal he wanted to let out. He was acting like a schoolgirl, and he didn’t care. 

Usually, he didn’t like people touching him. The only people he openly accepted touching from was Kuroo and Lev- although if they were in public, Lev would get smacked. Kuroo, he’d grown to allow, and now it was like second nature. He was dodgy with his parents, allowing it, but it never really happened. And he may accept the slightest from Bokuto, although he didn’t like it, and then he just didn’t touch Akaashi. 

Shoyo, however, broke this. Kenma embraced these touches, without a second thought, and he longed for them. He hadn’t felt that of any other crush he’d had- was he going crazy? Or was Shoyo just that special? 

He was that special. Kenma had it  _ bad.  _ Kenma didn’t know what he’d done to gain the attention of Cupid, but Cupid had his sights on him and wasn’t letting him go. Kenma had a feeling that this might just follow him until he dies. But he was okay with it- he found peace with this feeling, because Shoyo was special, and Kenma would willingly die loving him. 

God, he  _ really  _ sounded like a teen girl. 

* * *

Kenma had been joined by Kuroo a few moments after Shoyo had left. He was glad that Kuroo hadn’t been watching him blush like an idiot because he had to go help Bo carry out boxes of canned soda that had yet to be brought out, as well as a little bit of alcohol in a cooler. Kenma declined the offer he got for it, but Akaashi apparently hadn’t. He was a little more giggly when they met again. 

He didn’t get to see Shoyo again that party. At some point, there was a shriek, and Shoyo ran from the house, tugging on clothes and yelling that he was late to meet his mommy. Kenma thought it was cute how he called her mommy. Kuroo thought it was funny how he had his shoes on the wrong feet. 

Kenma and Akaashi left together soon after that. Akaashi wasn’t one for parties, and he wasn’t interested in the rager it would turn into now that Sho had gone, and it was just a bunch of college students in one area. The sun got low, the music got louder, and Kenma and Akaashi left. Kuroo and Bokuto stayed. 

Kenma locked the door that night and took the keys with them. Just as a little extra payback for the threesome in May, which he was still incredibly salty about. 

* * *

Later that night, Shoyo texts him to say he’s sorry for not saying goodbye, but he loves the lamp he got him. Kenma smiled at this and said he’s welcome, but then promptly got flooded with raving about the damn bathmat. 

‘KENMA IT WAS SO CUTE!’ 

‘ITS DOWN ALREADY, THE DOGS ARE SO CUTE, THEY CHANGES COLORS WHEN THEY GET WET!’

‘ILL SHOW YOU!’

What promptly followed was a picture, not of a bathmat, but of Shoyo and Kageyama. Kageyama was posed with his thumb in his waistband, tugging it up and an awkward finger gun, with just as awkward of an expression. Hinata mirrored this, just without the awkwardness, and tugging his shorts down. Kenma could see the prominent v-line he had, accentuating the bulge that was in his shorts. The picture was innocent, in itself, the intention. But oh- oh god. 

‘SORRY! WRONG PICTURE’

After that, a picture of a bathmat did send, with three dogs on it, surrounding a food bowl and all going for it. 

‘man, that is cute’ Kenma sent, before scrolling up and staring at the picture a little longer. Oh-  _ shit _ . A shower.. that sounded-

Another ding on his phone sounded, and it wasn’t Shoyo. Lev’s text banner appeared, blocking out the top of the picture. 

‘wanna come over tonite??? 😎😍😉’

Kenma began getting ready before replying to Lev. Only when he was out the door did he send, ‘I’m coming.’ 

Lev replied, ‘already?’ 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello sorry this took 6745807ever, life's been insane. Welcome to the new year- should we be excited? Based on the events so far, it is a no. No excitement. Sorry the chapte5rs take forever, even short ones like these, I'm so fucking busy all the fucking time and also just sad. But I still will do this! BTW, I posted a Christmas oneshot cause I'm that bitch, you can check it out, it's not related to this at all but I am pretty fucking proud of it! I'm also working on another thing with Kuroo as the main, and Kenma's his love interest, but kuroo is disgusting. It is to fuel my inner Kuroo kinnie. I have other shit in the making, cause I can never focus, but that KuroKen thing might be the next out. But I've also been hella intrigued by A/B/O dynamics? So I may try smth like that. You can comment suggestions because I can't always write this due to my mood not being a certain way and I like to practice writing other shit so... Feel free to comment! Or DM me a request. My Instagram is @losifeaur if ya wanna find me. You know what the world needs to find? The balls to abolish the death penalty. 
> 
> The death penalty is a flawed system- there is NO POSSIBLE WAY to make it just, even though there are many crimes(like murder, rape and pedophilia) which definitely deserve it, we can't find a way to always know for sure. Many innocent lives have been taken by it because we suck. Dustin Higgs is a man currently on death row for being an accomplice to three murders. Accomplice. Willis Hayes is the shooter who plead guilty. Dustin Higgs should still be held accountable for what he did because he did do something wrong, but he should not be put to death for a crime that he didn't commit- there is no reason to kill someone who has not taken someone else's life. Here are petitions you can sign to save this man's life, and then some petitions to act against the death penalty.
> 
> https://actionnetwork.org/petitions/save-dustin-higgs/
> 
> https://www.change.org/p/help-save-dustin-john-higgs
> 
> https://www.amnesty.org/en/what-we-do/death-penalty/#:~:text=Reasons%20to%20abolish%20the%20death%20penalty&text=Execution%20is%20the%20ultimate%2C%20irrevocable,row%20on%20grounds%20of%20innocence.
> 
> https://www.aclu.org/other/case-against-death-penalty
> 
> Also, a final note, please, to my American readers, stay safe and inside. Not only are we in a GODDAMN PANDEMIC, but today, insane Trump loving terrorists stormed the white house and like hell they're going to stop there. Please stay safe and educate yourself on these events if you haven't heard of them and you're American. If you're one of those Trumpette terrorists, please fucking leave. You're not welcome and I hate you ;) To the rest of you, I hope you enjoy this chapter and sorry for the essay worthy notes.

“You like Hinata.” 

There were many things Lev said that often had Kenma frowning at the stupidity of. He wasn’t the smartest guy. He made ready conclusions, stupid conclusions, and odd conclusions. There was a point where Lev had attacked his thighs and said that Kenma liked it because he must be half girl. He had decided that bowls were made by cutting hollow spheres of various metals in half. He had been sure that the reason Kenma was small was because he didn’t talk enough.

He was never right. Ever. 

So this- this made Kenma’s blood freeze as he turned to look at Lev, staring directly at him and laying on his side. He looked excited, still blush and still with tossed around hair, but confident. 

“I’m… sorry. What?” Kenma choked out. 

Lev’s grin flared. “Ginger. Nice. It’s Shoyo, you like Shoyo,” He leaned over Kenma, his head tilted to the side. “I saw how touchy you were today. Are you two… you know?” Lev winked a little, and Kenma wasn’t sure if he was implying that Kenma would cheat on him, or if he and Shoyo had the same type of relationship he had with Lev. 

Kenma’s cheeks burned even brighter than they already had been burning. “We... We’re only friends. That’s it, Lev.” Kenma turned his head off the side because he knew he looked like an idiot. He was a good liar, but not when he was naked and tired, and certainly not when Lev had just surprised the shit out of him. 

The Russian laughed. 

“You like him! You really like him! You’ve got it  _ bad, _ ” Lev fell down beside him and the bed bounced. “You  _ never  _ let people touch you! I’m right about this. Don’t hide it!” 

Kenma groaned and rolled to his side. Lev and Oikawa. Two of the  _ loudest  _ fucking people he knew, knew this big secret. “How do you even know him?” 

“We play together! He’s really jealous of my height,” Lev hooked their legs together under the blanket as to prove his size, “He was actually at that one training camp you didn’t go to. Remember when you got real sick? We played with Karasuno.” 

“No shit?” 

“No shit!” Lev laughed, “small world! You could have met him  _ years  _ ago. He’s way different now. We also would have played them if we didn’t get beat by Nohebi. Remember that?”

“Wow,” Kenma whispered. He said it a lot but  _ fuck.  _ Small fucking world. Shoyo Hinata was much more in his life than he thought, Shoyo could have been present in his life if he hadn’t agreed to do extra practice with Kuroo that one time.  _ Fuck you Kuro.  _

“Yeah! Can’t believe that all these years later, you’ve got a crush on him. If you met him then, would that mean we wouldn’t fuck?” Kenma felt Lev grab his ass under the covers, “I’m happy it took so long! I’d miss your cute ass!” 

“Fuck off,” Kenma rolled over to force Lev’s hand away, and it flew right away. He stared at the ceiling and its blank white pattern, dark from the lack of light in the room. Only a small lamp was on. 

Lev chuckled. “So, you  _ do  _ like him?” 

“I guess,” Kenma lowered his head to his chest. His fingers were entwined on it. Another person knowing, it ran the risk of it being found out by more people worse. It made the risk of  _ Kuroo  _ finding out more real. Especially if it were Lev. 

Kenma rolled his head to the side, finding Lev staring right back at him, wide green eyes trained on him. There was absolutely nothing behind them, it was an open door into Lev’s empty brain. He was dumb, he was easy to read. He was like an obedient puppy. 

“Don’t tell anybody. Nobody can know that I like Shoyo,” Kenma said. It wasn’t like Lev couldn’t keep a secret. Nobody knew about their hookups, besides Inuoka, and that wasn’t even because Lev told him. 

“Of course! It’s kinda a big deal to like guys here. No one knows I like guys! But… Could I have something in return?” 

“Shoot.”

“Tell me who you’re sleeping with!” 

Kenma felt every single atom of his being contract in on itself with those words. His muscles were just barely restraining themselves from leaning in and decking the clueless Russian right in that dumb, handsome face. It wasn’t fucking possible this was real. 

He was currently naked, as was Lev, laying under the covers of the same bed. His hair was messy, his neck and shoulders were marked, his hips ached. Lev had puffy red lips and a few marks of his own down his chest. And yet, he still looked Kenma directly in the eyes after asking that question. 

“Are you okay? I’m asking because there’s this bet that Kuroo has going! I know I don’t  _ need  _ the money, but I don’t think you’d want so many people to know and I’m super trusted so..” 

Whatever Lev was saying was drowned in Kenma’s mind. He wasn’t joking. He was genuine. That was a genuine question, and Kenma could seriously reach out and grab onto Lev’s dick, right at that moment. 

“You. I’m sleeping with you,” Kenma ended the rambling that Lev had gone on in an instant, the words coming out harsh because they had to be. He was joking- Right? Right?? 

Lev gasped like he was surprised. 

Kenma wanted to die. 

“Right! Oh.. that makes so much sense!” Lev laughed heartily, placing his hand on his stomach. “That was silly of me! I guess I can’t win…”

“Lev. Come here,” Kenma wiggled his finger close to him, and the Russian leaned forward as asked. 

“Why?” 

“I want to kiss you.” 

“Oh! Okay!” Lev rolled on top of him and began to lean down. Kenma leaned in too, but as soon as he felt Lev get close enough, he smacked him. 

Lev froze in place, eyes snapping open. His cheek began to turn pink. 

“You’re an idiot, Lev,” Kenma frowned, “an absolute idiot.” 

* * *

Kenma had never really cared about looking particularly good. Fashion wasn't his thing, he didn’t know how to style his hair, and his personal hygiene hadn’t always been the best. But lately, he’d found himself glaring at little flyaways, staring further into his closet and seeing what was there before grabbing and he’d begun showering regularly- he’d actually put money to some nice shampoos and conditioners. The want and need to look good was a thousand times more prevalent, the idea of looking unpresentable for Shoyo being almost unfathomable. He was sure Shoyo probably wouldn’t care if he dressed nice or not- the guy did ask for his number while he was drenched in coffee- but he still wanted to try and put an effort in. 

So now, here he was, standing in his shower and brushing out the last of the conditioner he’d slathered in his hair. It had been a particularly hard task to get his hair under control- it was all knotted and gross from his night with Lev. Having it clean was refreshing- also a new thing; he’d never really paid mind to how much nicer he felt after a good shower- and now he could easily move it about. 

He heard the door creak open as he began to put his brush back on the shower shelf, and he grimaced. Yes, and with the showers came more break-ins, because his roommates had no sense of privacy. 

“Kuro, I’m going to buy a lock you know,” He threatened as he turned towards the curtain, expecting a large shadow to pop through. But instead- a different shaped hand grabbed the curtain, and cold rushed his body as it was yanked fully back. Instead of deadpanning at Kuroo’s antics, he found himself shrieking as he rushed to cover his modesty against Yamamoto’s harsh gaze. 

“Hey Shrimpy!” Yamamoto cackled, “Shit man, I expected more! They always say gamers have bigger dicks but d-“ 

Kenma launched a bar of soap at Yamamoto, who easily dodged it and laughed. 

“Bad aim too?” 

“The  _ fuck,  _ Tora? Get out!” 

“Ah! No, no, no. A little birdie let me in on a  _ little secret~ _ ! I may have got some intel on who you’re fuckin’ and I need some compensation to keep my mouth shut,” Yamamoto leaned up against the wall with a triumphant and cocky smirk which Kenma could read like a book-  _ I’m lying, I took this plan from Yaku and I’m trying to execute it but I’m too dumb to.  _ Idiot. If it wasn’t what he was thinking, Kenma’d be damned, but he knew Tora wasn’t right. Lev was stupid, but he wasn’t that stupid, and he knew Tora would be having a different reaction if he’d found out Kenma was crushing on a guy. He wouldn’t be so casual around Kenma’s nakedness. 

The blond inched closer to the showerhead and placed his hand on the cord connecting it to the wall. “Mhm, really? Who is it then, Tora?” 

“Pay me and-“ 

Kenma reached up and sharply turned the showerhead, aiming it directly at Yamamoto’s face, who was conveniently at the right height to be beamed directly in the face by a harsh stream of hot water. 

Tora gurgled something and jumped away, cursing as he stumbled for the door, and Kenma followed him with the stream. It was soaking the floor, but nothing towels couldn’t fix. He took much more pride in making Yamamoto flee like a mouse from a cat. Or a cat from a mouse? Kenma watched Tom and Jerry. 

The door slammed as Yamamoto disappeared through it, and Kenma finally turned off the water. He’d gotten all the conditioner out, washed up, and was ready to go anyway. He stepped out and minded the puddles of water covering the floor, throwing down a couple of towels, and wrapping one around himself. 

He dried himself quickly and ran into his room to change into his work uniform. Yamamoto hadn’t left- he could hear him complaining from the kitchen loudly about what Kenma had done to Kuroo, who was laughing along.

“That’s Kenma for you! What’d you expect?” 

“You said he would be fine!” 

Kenma slung his bag over his shoulder and left his room, sliding an elastic into his hair to tie it back, and he turned into the kitchen to grab his keys. 

Yamamoto was leaned against the stove with a towel around his shoulders, and Kuroo was sitting on one of the counters. When Yamamoto locked eyes with him, he snarled. 

“What gives? I was being respectful!” 

“In what world is interrupting a man’s shower and insulting his dick respectful?” Kenma slid his keys from the counter and felt his stomach rumble. He had time. Little, but some… Cereal was quick. 

“I announced myself.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” 

“Yes, I did!” 

“He yelled a couple times, to be fair,” Kuroo said behind Kenma, and he could hear the slight smirk in his tone. He was guessing Tora definitely didn’t yell, but Kuroo was a shit-stirrer. 

Kenma sighed as he put the milk and a bowl down on the countertop by the range of cereals. “Fine,” He dragged his eyes over the boxes and didn’t feel any spark from them. He could skip breakfast- what a waste he… wait. He rubbed his tongue on the top of his mouth as a little idea began to formulate in his mind, and he felt the sides of his lips quirk. He suppressed it quickly as he turned his head to Tora. “Fine. I’m sorry. It was awful of me to be so rude.” 

Yamamoto blinked in surprise down at Kenma, but like a dumb chicken, his face immediately broke out into a smug mug. “Right! So, you’ll tell me who she is then, right? I only deserve it.” 

Kenma felt his fingers twitch on the cap of the milk. This was going surprisingly well, he hadn’t expected this to fall into place. “You really wanna know?” 

“Hell yeah!” 

“Right… get closer,” Kenma began unscrewing the cap, and Yamamoto fixed himself right on Kenma’s hip, closing himself between the cabinets and Kenma. Man. He was a genius. “So… You wanna know what she looks like?” 

“Yes! Hurry up! Stop st-“ 

Kenma flipped the red cap off of the gallon and send it flying as he immediately turned and dumped the gallon Tora, jumping back a step to avoid the splash. 

“Now you look like her,” He mentally snapped an image of Tora mid shock, stuck in place as milk ran down his face and hair, coating the air with the smell and changing the color of his clothes to grosser muted colors. 

He only relished in the image for a second, quickly turning on his heel and making a break for the door, slamming it behind him before he was flying down the stairs. He fought with Taketora a lot, not physically, but when they did, he always found himself at a disadvantage if Tora was actually getting worked up. 

He skipped steps, 2 at a time and sometimes 3. He was sure he had accidentally hurtled one of them completely, but still managed to catch himself as he reached the bottom. He ran for the door, but suddenly he felt his body slam into something. This time, he did not catch himself. 

With a grunt, his ass made hard connection with the ground.  _ That’s gonna leave a bruise.  _ “Sorry,” He struggled to push himself up, “I wasn’t-“ 

“Kenma!” 

Kenma came back to realization briefly and then found himself back in the clouds.  _ Shoyo _ . “Hi. Sorry about that.”

“Nah! Oh, how the tables have turned!” Shoyo laughed and slid further into the apartments, keeping his foot extended to prop open the door. His arms were filled with bags, at least three on each arm without breaking a sweat, all looking filled to the brim. He’d gone grocery shopping. 

“Yeah- I guess so.” 

Shoyo smiled as Kenma grabbed the door instead and slid in front of it.“It’s good to see you! I actually wanted to talk to you.” 

“Me?” Kenma couldn’t help but blush, even though it most definitely was nothing. At least, nothing like he was imagining or hoping for.  _ God,  _ if only. “What did you-“ 

“KOZUME!” His sentence was cut short by the roar of Yamamoto up the flights of stairs Kenma had just flown down, accompanied by heavy footsteps. 

Kenma looked panicked at Shoyo, and Shoyo looked back at him with a confused but smiling expression. “I’ll- call you?” 

“Thanks- I’m looking forward to it Shoyo- bye.”

Before he could process whatever he even said, he bolted through the door and rounded the corner, slamming himself up against the brick of the building. In a second, he heard Yamamoto roar, “Where’d he go?” 

Shoyo answered, “out there!” 

Kenma listened as Yamamoto’s thundering footsteps left the building and echoed down the street. He turned far enough to see Yamamoto’s fleeting form disappearing towards the beach- thank god he didn’t know where Kenma worked. 

The blond took a lesser-known route to the restaurant. It took longer, but it avoided the public’s eye and allowed himself to fan himself off as unattractively as he could. Sweat soaked his clothes, he probably smelled like shit.  _ Oh well. So much for that shower _ . 

* * *

Kenma cursed as he felt the familiar vibrating of his phone tickling his thigh from his pocket as he stopped at a crosswalk. He was about ten minutes from his apartment, and his shift had ended a couple minutes ago. He hadn’t stuck around like he usually did, and he didn’t take the slow scenic route again. Lev had indirectly reminded him of an essay he hadn’t finished, due that night at 11:59. Lev didn’t go to college, lucky prick, and Kenma often found himself really wondering what the point was. He couldn’t even remember what it was on. He just needed the fucking grade. 

Back to his phone. The ring was off, but that didn’t mean it was any less annoying. Kenma hated calls, always had, always will, and he often refrained from picking them up until recently since he was now an  _ adult  _ and it might be  _ important.  _

Kenma half hazardous fumbled his phone into his hand and answered, shoving it right up to his face as he grumbled, “I swear to  _ fuck _ , if this is the holy church of bumfuck whatevers again, I’m going to-“ 

“Kenma.” 

For the second time that day, Kenma had his words cut short and his heart fluttering as the same familiar voice spoke his name. 

“Shoyo,”  _ Did he always have to say his name? He liked saying it. It sounded so good _ . “Sorry. I just… yeah.” 

“I get it! But I  _ did  _ say I was gonna call, Kennykenken.” 

_ Kennykenken _ . He’d been called that before, and he’d ignored it. Hearing it from Shoyo was better, even if it was through a phone with bad reception, hardly legible against the sounds of traffic around him. He wished he could save it. 

“You did?” 

“This afternoon?” 

Kenma’s mind blanked for a moment, before finally the afternoon’s events, which already felt so long ago to him. Work really took energy out of him. He felt rejuvenated now.  _ God  _ Shoyo’s existence was like a drug. 

“Heh, funny, funny forgetful Kenma… anyway. Remember I had a question before Yamamoto tried to kill you?” 

_ And  _ Shoyo had a question for him. Could this day get any better? 

“Vaguely. Did you ask it?” 

“No! Well, so, my actual birthday is  _ tomorrow,  _ you know? I’m turning twenty…” 

Kenma’s cheeks began to heat. Shoyo… he wasn’t…

“Do you wanna come to a bar with me…? I’ve been wanting to try drinking and you seemed like a good option! Kageyama can drive us back- It’s his bar I was thinking about. Unless you wanna drive! Or not drive. But we’d be walking there cause Kageyama would be on his shift since you work so late, and you work anyway, so if you don’t want to, don’t feel bad about rejecting me, seriously, I mean-“ 

“Shoyo.” 

Kenma was the one cutting the ginger off this time, his lips curling into a small smile as the name was spoken so softly and so fondly. He knew he looked absolutely whipped-he was-, anyone watching him would probably assume he was talking to a lover. 

There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then he heard a faint laughed out, ‘oh my gosh…’. It sounded like Shoyo had his palm on his face, and Kenma could imagine the reddened cheeks and wobbly grin. Shoyo wasn’t a nervous guy, not a nervous ranter even more, so this behavior was just odd, but Kenma found some sort of hope in this. 

What kind of hope? He knew, but he wouldn’t say. He’d be getting too ahead of himself. But it was the kind of hope that made his belly burn and his chest constrict with a restrained noise of joy. 

“I would love to,” Kenma managed out, trying to sound slightly neutral, but absolutely failing. Love was pouring out of every inch of his being, he  _ longed  _ to rave to Shoyo about just how adorable he was being. He longed to have Shoyo say it back. “We can go right after my shift.” 

“Oh.. oh. Oh?” Shoyo’s tone slowly rose, and then he heard something, a faraway ‘yus!’ before Shoyo’s voice came again, oozing with joy that seeped through to Kenma and painted a smile on his face. “Great. Great! I’ll.. see you? Have a good night, Kenma!” 

“You as well, Shoyo,” Kenma returned, and soon, the line went quiet, and his phone beeped twice. 

He resisted the urge to run down the street and jump in the air, to hit his heels together and cry in laughter. When had he felt this good? Never… never! He’d been at such a dark point before… before Shoyo. He could barely force a pleasant head nod, and here he was, fighting the urge to reenact choreography from a cheesy romance musical. 

_ Shoyo Hinata. Are you the death of me, or are you my guardian angel?  _

Kenma rubbed his face with his hands, working fingers through tight muscles from smiling. He’d been doing it so much lately, but his cheeks weren’t fully used to it. He loved the pain though. 

Kenma breathed in the polluted city air like it was the freshest on the planet. It cooled his insides enough for him to reign his smiles in, but his chipper mood didn’t even falter, not as he remembered the essay he had to complete, and not as his phone began ringing again. 

He answered it with a kind, “Hello?” 

“Kozume Kenma? Hello, and blessings be to you. Are you interested in learning about our lord and savior Jesus-“ 

He didn’t even block the number as he hung up. Only rolled his eyes, and continued the rest of the way home with a dumb, puppy dog smile. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever, ik, but I’ve been working on like, stuff outside this and also trying to properly plan the rest of this fic! This is the longest I’ve taken, I think, on my fics. Which is pathetic but also, I am trying to put more effort in! I don’t really like how this turned out. 
> 
> Another thing I don’t like is the constant mistreatment of black people… literally everywhere. 
> 
> http://chng.it/nSkYvzLfds 
> 
> This link takes you to a petition about a woman who’s son was killed the same way as George Floyd was and she’s calling for justice.
> 
> http://chng.it/LqTdKHkwfG 
> 
> This, this is calling attention to what is and has been going on in Libya for forever. There is an active slave trade going on there, it’s ACTUAL SLAVERY. I know you may not think petitions do much but at least they get the word around and with no money, it’s the least you could do.
> 
> Anyways enjoy this-

Kenma was never one for going out with friends- ever. It always took some kind of bribe or he’d be forcibly removed from his premise. Before, him going out was unheard of. If he had a friend he was interested in, he’d rather spend time in his own home. Even the few(one) girls he’d tried to get closer to, he’d simply brought them to his place to hang out. If he was invited somewhere, he typically turned them down. 

Shoyo was another case- as he always was. He hadn't been excited about that volleyball game, but he went without force. He hadn’t been too privy on the birthday party either, but he went. But now, he was excited as he moved through the motions of the day, his mind on that night. 

He was going out with Shoyo.  _ Going out.  _ An outing. He so desperately wanted to call it a date- just Shoyo and him, at a bar, hanging out. For his birthday. 

Kenma normally spent his birthday with his family or Kuroo, if anyone. Birthdays, in his world, were meant to be shared with people you felt close, strong bonds with. So Shoyo inviting him to hang out for his birthday was a big deal. His 20th birthday. 

Kenma watched the clock all day. It was moving all too slow, the longer he looked at it, but when an hour passed, it felt as if it was going too fast. 

His shift ended and he had barely said a goodbye to Lev before he was out the door. What would he wear? Was this okay? What would he say? 

Kenma decided he’d stay in his work clothes. They were fancy enough, and he’d taken off the obnoxious red tie and shoes and replaced them with his normal shoes. He looked okay… it wasn’t too fancy, right? It was just a casual hang out, and Shoyo would get it if he just showed up in his work clothes. Would he seem lazy? 

He ultimately decided to run upstairs and change his clothes. Nobody was home, so he went unaccosted as he changed into dark jeans and swiped one of Kuroo’s nicer hoodies to wear. He threw his hair half up, and before he knew it, he was standing in front of apartment four, messing with his hands and trying to muster the balls to knock on it already. 

Should he have texted Shoyo?

_ Shut up Kenma. He asked for you- he’s probably sick of waiting.  _

Right. Right! Right? 

Kenma began to drop his knuckles down on the wood, but before it made contact, his fist went through it and the door opened. Peeping his head out, Shoyo grinned. 

“Hi,” He whispered, glancing back, and then tiptoeing from the room. He closed the door quietly, and then stood straight with a relieved face. 

The ginger was dressed in a nice pale orange button-down with the top two buttons undone and light tan, nearly white, khaki shorts. It was such.. a  _ dad  _ look, but still kind of youthful and dorky and so uniquely Shoyo.

_ You look good,  _ he wanted to say, but simply muttered a, “Hi.” 

“Hey,” Hinata smiled back and stepped away from the door, pushing Kenma tentatively with him, “Gucci’s in a heated game of chess with Tsuki, and I don’t wanna get the board thrown at me again.” 

“Again?” 

Hinata gave him a toothy grin and then positioned his arm so it was entwined with Kenma’s, walking him through a few doors before they finally made it outside. 

Though he’d just been outside, the temperature had seemed to rise so that his hair felt too hot on his neck, or maybe it was just the fact he was touching Shoyo. 

“How was work?” Shoyo asked once they stepped onto the sidewalk. He was leading them for the most part, probably having memorized the way to the bar he chose. It was Kageyama’s, so he knew the way there fairly well, but he liked being pulled by him anyway as if he didn’t.

“Exciting as always. I love waiting on rich old people,” Kenma sighed quietly, and heard Shoyo chuckle softly. It made his lips turn up a bit. “Happy birthday by the way. Did you do anything for it?” 

“Thanks very much, Ken!” Shoyo nudged him as their turned a corner and nodded at a random lady before his sights went briefly back to Kenma and then in front of them. “Nothing too special! Tadashi made me breakfast, at work Aone brought me some cake his wife made for lunch, and in class, my friend Kogane got them to sing happy birthday to me! It was super nice! I really love my friends.” 

Kenma felt his lip tremble as Shoyo said love. The word came incredibly soft as it rolled past his lips and dripped off his tongue, almost like honey but with a sweeter aftertaste and so much more meaning.  _ Love.  _ There was nothing romantic in the context Shoyo said in. He was simply saying he loved his friends, which included Kenma, he’d hope. He didn’t like to throw around the word love. He said he crushed on people, and he had strong positive feelings for his family and Kuroo, but he didn’t  _ like  _ to say or hear love. His family would say they love him and he’d shrivel up, even when his old team would group hug and cry and say they loved each other, he wouldn’t say it back and just pretend he hadn’t heard it. 

_ Progress,  _ he thought to himself as he drank down the word, acknowledging how often he was using it when he imagined the ginger,  _ is this growth?  _

“I’m not planning to get drunk, by the way,” Hinata said after a comfortable silence had settled between them. He never let silences last long. “If I do, I don’t mean to! I hope it’s not crowded… I don’t want a lotta people to be seeing me possibly get wasted. I can trust you though, right Kenma?” 

“Right,” Kenma smiled as the seaside bar came into view, standing between a cafe and clothing store. It was a surprisingly good bar with a good reputation, there were few shady areas around it and it was just… nice. 

Shoyo being worried about being a drunk was also quite cute. Most of the guys he knew were eager to get drinking so they could get drunk and fuck shit up, they liked to say. He was the same way, wanting to get drunk so he’d potentially feel better. He didn’t care for it now that he’d felt it though. He preferred having control over himself. 

“Gosh, I  _ really _ hope I don’t see too many people I know! I mean... I know everyone but. I hope it’s not like a huge event! Or something,” Hinata’s bicep flexed as he spoke, with his hand wiggling with each syllable. Was he… anxious? Shoyo Hinata? No… Kenma smiled. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” He assured as his foot hit the first step, “The only people who go drinking on Tuesday nights are old men and depressed college students. I don’t think you’ll see anyone you know.” 

And with that, Kenma pushed the barroom door open and immediately ate his words. 

Akaashi was sat at one of the side booths of the bar, sipping on a drink and conversing with some professional-looking man across from him, and then the man he had an apprenticeship with, Tenma, next to him. 

Kenma quickly turned his head away from the booth, hoping that he’d be left unnoticed as he brought Shoyo over to the farthest side of the bar, away from Akaashi and whatever he was doing. For the most part, Kenma had been right about who to expect- Old men, check, depressed college students, check. And bartenders of course. 

He felt a shot of dread when he saw Oikawa standing behind the bar too, talking over a glass in a rough tone at Kageyama. So much for not seeing people they knew, he thought to himself bitterly, he just hoped Oikawa would keep his mouth shut about his crush. 

“What are you gonna have, Kenma?” Shoyo asked as he slid over the closest little menu pamphlet. Specialties for the night were listed down the pages, with the back page offering virgin drinks as well as the more toned down alcohol and some sodas. He’d been there enough that he’d half memorized the back page, it was the same in everything and the only thing he’d get anything off of if he was choosing for himself. He wasn’t much of a connoisseur.

“Probably like.. something virgin. And easy. I let the bartender usually choose for me.” He settled closest to the wall, and Hinata gladly shuffled onto the barstool beside him. Hinata blocked his view of Akaashi for the most part, but it didn’t quell the anxiety he felt from being in the same establishment as him without knowing it. He didn’t want Akaashi to think the wrong thing. Well,  _ why _ would he? He wouldn’t, because it was normal for two guys to just go out to bars together as friends, but  _ still.  _ It didn’t feel right. 

“Hey, idiot, Kenma,” A towel smacked between them on the bar, and Kageyama looked down at both of them with a scowl. “What do you want?” 

“Ah, can’t you be more professional? Or at least pretend like you’re nice!” Shoyo whined, but his tone was rather carefree like he found the interaction enjoyable, despite being loudly called an idiot, “It  _ is  _ my birthday.” 

“Happy birthday, old shit. What is your order?” 

“That’s worse!” 

Kenma snickered behind his hand at their little interaction. Oikawa said Kageyama liked Shoyo, but he really didn’t believe that based on this interaction. Kageyama looked smug, the smugness only growing with every insult he threw at Hinata.  _ Tsundere? _

A glass was slid in front of Kenma, filled with red liquid to the top and two cherries floating on top of the ice. “Shirley temple, like you, a virgin,” Oikawa’s voice suddenly hummed as his hand slid away, and immediately, Kageyama turned on him. 

“Hey, they’re my customers.  _ I  _ won the rock paper scissors,” Kageyama frowned at the drink put in front of Kenma, which Kenma hadn’t hesitated to put to his mouth. How had he known he wanted it virgin? It didn’t matter he supposed. It tasted good all the same. 

“You can help me choose something to drink!” Shoyo pushed the menu suddenly between the two bartenders who looked ready to start another argument with each other. Did they do this all the time? He’d never been in tune enough to really know. 

“Ah, you’ll probably want-“ 

“Whisky,” Kageyama said, “Whisky’s great for a beginner.” 

“You can’t even drink Tobio-chan, that’s really  _ bad  _ for first-time drinkers!” Oikawa pushed Kageyama a few steps back and leaned over the counter to the menu Hinata still had. “You’ll want something light. You like fruity stuff, right, Sho? Here, it’s a bit girly but-“ 

“Nah, you want whisky,” Kageyama elbowed the other, taking the menu, “Look I can-“ 

“You aren’t gonna water it down at all, he’s so small. He’ll die. He should have some nice-“ 

“He’ll be fine. I wanna see him g-“ 

“You don’t want t-“ 

And like that, the two were at it again, arguing over Shoyo and entirely forgetting he was a customer. 

“Wow,” Shoyo whispered, “this is.. scary.” 

“You don’t have to drink it all,” Kenma looked to the redhead who was watching the two with a curious but weary smile. Poor guy. Kenma had drank hard liquor for his first drink ever and ended up waking up the next day with little recollection of what he’d done. He still wasn’t really sure. 

“I probably won’t,” Shoyo laughed now, his eyes rolling across the other bartenders. And in came Kawanishi, sliding over a glass and saying, “charge Kageyama. This should be good,” and then turning away and walking back to the side of the bar he was catering to. Almost on cue, Semi cut between the two arguing and told them to get back to fucking work. 

And then they were alone. 

“Are you ready?” Kenma asked, almost teasingly as Hinata wiggled the straw in the ice. 

Shoyo blushed as he looked at Kenma, almost pleadingly, before looking back down at the drink. “Not at all!” He chuckled, and then breathed out, and took a fast gulp, completely disregarding the straw he was given. 

Kenma watched with wide eyes as his Adam’s apple bobbed twice, then he put down the glass. He sat there, rubbing his fingertips on the glass before his face scrunched. “I don’t like it.” 

Hinata began to rub his lips together with an almost disgusted expression, the most negative expression Kenma had seen the ginger pull ever. It may have been intimidating had it not been for the way he stuck his tongue out and scraped it on his teeth to rid himself of the taste. “I really don't like it.” 

“Alcohol’s really not for everyone,” Kenma smiled as Hinata pushed the drink away from him like a child, still glaring a bit at it, but his face had rested back into his signature smile. 

“Yeah, at least that stuff isn’t for me!” Hinata looked to Kenma and then down at his red drink, “What is that?” 

“I think it’s a virgin shirley temple,” Kenma looked down and then tilted the glass Shoyo’s way, “Do you wanna try?” 

“Virgin?” Hinata gave him a silly little smile before he leaned in, and his lips met the straw. And immediately Kenma felt his heart falter in rhythm. 

His throat constricted as Shoyo sipped it and then drew back, humming thoughtfully as if he hadn’t just sent Kenma into cardiac arrest by a simple motion. 

“It’s sweet!” He smiled, “Really sweet- Kenma- Are you okay?” 

Kenma couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed, in amaze, horny, or all three, and it left him in somewhat of a speechless state as he tried to form an answer.  _ No, I’m fine just our saliva touched, and does that mean we kissed indirectly? I’m chill, just you sipped my drink and normally I would be disgusted but you are so cute. Perfectly perfect, it’s just that I really want you to give me the gluck gluck 9000 or maybe the other way- _

He thankfully didn’t have to decide on a response, he didn’t think he’d be able to anyway, as a loud murmur began to fill the ears of the patrons of the restaurant. There was something going on outside, some sort of massive crowd heading near the bar. 

It’s not like the bar was a quiet place. Music played loud enough and it was right on a street, so there was constant chatter from the people passing as well as the occasional car sound or honks that were just natural in the city. But this was louder, more dense kind of noise and chatter, and it was getting increasingly louder like there was some sort of protest marching past the bar, which he doubted would happen on a Tuesday. But then again, nothing ever happened on Tuesdays. 

Unless it was a Kenma Tuesday. Because Kenma had the luck of a man who’d tread on ancient burial ground, drunk and naked on a Friday the 13th. 

“What’s that noise?” Shoyo asked Kenma, and Kenma responded with a shrug, his eyes turning towards the doors. 

“It sounds like pa-“ he finished his word, but the ‘parazzi’ came out as more of a defeated and elongated sigh as the bar door opened, and a tall, tall man and woman slipped into the establishment, looking rather unphased by the attention, signature for the one and only Haiba siblings. 

With the siblings flooded in more people, scrambling for seats and places to congregate in order to dine in the same area as celebrities. They were barely celebrities, just models, but their faces were everywhere and people were thirsty for any break they could get, so naturally, they’d cling to what could bring them to the top… but this was just too much. 

“For fucks sake,” He heard a swear from across the bar, which he placed to Semi, though he’d understand if anyone had said it. It was already hell. 

“Lev,” Shoyo said as a statement, though it wasn’t loud like he was calling him, more as acknowledging that was indeed who was there. But Lev didn’t notice, too focused on his sister, the menu, and the ballsy few who had approached him. 

“That is indeed Lev,” Kenma almost sighed. He was more disappointed with the Russian’s existence right now, but still kind of relieved. At least he hadn’t had to answer Shoyo but… there was now a crowd. A big one. The room was loud with energy and there were people walking up all around him, touching him. It didn’t really feel.. private. 

“He really draws a crowd.” 

“Mhm,” Kenma chewed on his bottom lip with his k9s, pinching the chapped lip as he put his head down to the bar.  _ Just don’t think about it,  _ he urged himself, but  _ fuck  _ it was loud and there were people around him,  _ touching  _ him, and it all happened so fast. 

Shoyo was there, he knew he was there, but there were so many other people. He hadn’t prepared himself for this, not a crowd of this magnitude. With parties and games and stuff like that, he had moments to reflect and prepare for this, he could expect this and do what he needed to. But this was fast, and Akaashi was here, and he was just ready for a  _ small  _ fucking bar, not Lev, not his fans, not people  _ fucking touching him _ -

His head turned sharply to someone holding his arm, but his shoulders relaxed when he saw it was just Shoyo, standing and frowning at him. His eyes said, ‘wanna dip?’ 

Kenma nodded readily. 

  
  
  
  


Kenma hadn’t realized he’d begun holding his breath until he made it outside and filled his lungs with the warm taste of air, which involuntarily made his entire muscular system relax, and released the tension that had formed in his joints. 

There was still a bit of a gathering on the sidewalk, but it was less congested then it was in the bar, so it was easier for Shoyo to lead him through, and when they finally made it to a clear part of the street, Kenma could breathe. 

“Are you alright?” 

Kenma nodded, looking back briefly to the bar, and then to Hinata who had stood himself with his back to the road so that Kenma could stand comfortably against the wall of a closed building. The streetlamp illuminated him generously, the light casting shadow across his face so that Kenma had a hard time identifying exactly what face he was making, but he could hear the concern.  _ Sweetheart.  _

“I’m okay. Just… I’m okay. Sorry. Fucking Lev, bringing a crowd like that,” Kenma sighed out and decided to look at his shoes. He was embarrassed. He hated when he let his anxiety get the best of him. He’d gotten so much better with  _ everything  _ wrong with him since high school, but there were still rare moments where there’d be some kind of slip and he’d feel like shit again. 

Which was so selfish on a day like today. 

“Don’t worry about it, Ken! We didn’t know he was headed there, and it wasn’t like we’re gonna get very wasted anyway,” Hinata made something of a light chuckle, and suddenly Kenma felt a weight settle around his shoulders. He was aware now of Shoyo on him, a weight around his shoulders, tugging him. “Are you still up to spending some more time with me?” 

“Always,” Kenma responded, finding himself falling into step with Shoyo as they started down the street once again. 

And Shoyo chuckled. “Great! Ever gone skinny dipping?” 

He didn’t end up skinny dipping, but he did end up at the beach. The moon reflected beautifully across the waves, appearing almost full, although Kenma knew it was waning, the full moon had been the night before. There was a light breeze, but it carried warmth and the smell of salt, and quiet music accompanied their rather quiet walk towards the ocean, playing from a house just across the street which was still alive with the sounds of what must have been a party. But it was just Kenma, Shoyo with their shoes in hand and the ocean. 

“I don’t actually have to get naked, do I?” Kenma asked jokingly when Shoyo stopped just where the sand turned from light to nearly brown and became wet with the high tides earlier in the day. 

“‘Course not, Ken!” Shoyo laughed, turning só his heel dug a little hole in the sand and he faced Kenma, fingers finding his top button. He began to pop them out, one by one, “You wouldn’t mind if I did though, right?” 

Kenma had half a second to let his outward gay panic show, eyes widening as he watched Shoyo unbutton slowly, his eyes focused on the buttons rather than the absolutely whipped expression he no doubt was making. 

He did manage to unclench his throat and look away, tugging off the hoodie he’d taken from Kuroo, and tentatively messing with the buttons of his jeans. Should he..? Wet jeans were the worst but he di-

A pair of light khaki shorts flew in his peripheral vision, and he turned to see Shoyo, clad in teal boxers, running for the ocean. He supposed it was fun and was soon briskly walking into the ocean with his shirt pulled over his dick. 

The water hitting his feet was warm, miraculously given it was the night, a pleasant surprise as to what he was expecting. He easily waded forward, trying to catch up with Shoyo who was already splashing in chest-high water.

“The water’s so nice!” Shoyo called down to Kenma, “Hurry!” 

“Not everyone’s as nimble as you, Shoyo,” Kenma picked up the pace anyway. 

Sand squished between his toes and shells and rocks flew with his steps. He wasn’t ever a fan of swimming in the ocean. He found it made his skin feel really good, but he hated feeling shells and seeing fish swimming circles around his ankles. When he came, typically it was crowded too, with tourists and people running around and enjoying the sun. He didn’t like swimming around people, especially strangers, even more than he didn’t like existing around them. There was always some little kid who always found a way to annoy Kenma too, whether it be from splashing him and thinking he liked it, to kicking sand in his face when all he was trying to do was chill on his towel. He usually liked kids, he thought they were amusing, but kids on the beach were a different breed. He would gladly throttle a beach child. 

The sound of more water splashing indicated Shoyo was swimming further, and was confirmed when Kenma looked back up to gauge how close he’d gotten now that the water was about at his ribs(much deeper than he ever willfully went) and found that Shoyo was farther out, treading water and bobbing up and down. 

He radiated energy even though it was so late, doing god knows what out there. Swimming was just like flying in liquid, so he did slightly understand the appeal, but flying was just another way of transportation, like walking, so he didn’t get how people could have fun doing it. He was positive, though, that Shoyo could have fun watching paint dry, though. He was like Bokuto like that. His mind just seemed like a colorful place. 

Kenma’s attention moved back to the bare beach. Their clothes were in a pile on the sand, a couple feet away from the lifeguard post and far from the entrance. The sand was gonna be a bitch, but somehow, he found himself dreading it less than he usually would. Shoyo would be there to laugh at him, or maybe he’d bravely hoist him up and carry him to the sandless pavement. Having those muscles working like that was too delicious of a thought that he didn’t care to banish, and just allowed himself to visualize, because maybe it could be reality. It wasn’t far fetched at all when it was Shoyo. He’d already been picked up twice by Shoyo, would he really mind bridal carrying him? 

Kenma felt his breath shudder, and he turned again to look back out at the ocean. He’d watched a sunrise or two over here, only during the winters though, when it was later to rise. Now, the moon was nearing its peak at the top of the sky, and he could make out exactly where it was painted on the sea, rippling through the waters like a not yet dry painting that was moved a bit too much. He liked the nights better anyway. 

He wished he went out more at night. It was less hard on his eyes, the air always tasted better and there were less people… where did Shoyo go. 

Kenma dropped his eyes from the sky and back to the line that divided it and the sea, looking for something poking out of it and finding nothing, not even a slight blip of human further out. 

_ Fuck this, not me, no,  _ Kenma turned his head side to side, thinking maybe he’d gone further down, and then whipped around to look at the beach. No orange, no Shoyo, just black ocean and sand, and his rapid breathing.  _ Fuck. F _ **_uck._ **

“Shoyo?” He dared to take a step forward and then screamed when he felt something around him. It was big, and took out his legs, holding onto them tightly. He bit back a scream as he suddenly rocketed upwards, his legs still compromised, but his hands had found a body. Shoyo. 

Mischievous grinning amber orbs met his gaze halfway, brightened by the light of the moon. Dark red lashes clumped together from wetness, not particularly long or thick, but pretty and perfectly framing the round iris and giving way for rosy red cheeks to pop through and complimenting them generously. And his smile, it was always the smile, dumb but wide and carefree. He could have the ugliest smile, but he still wound showcase it as he always did, wearing his heart on his sleeve and making a statement to the world that he was happy. 

Shoyo would never have an ugly smile though. 

He was so handsome. 

Shoyo wasn’t handsome like other guys. He didn’t have a seductive charm like Kuroo with his perfectly sculptured face and dark eyes. He wasn’t handsome like Lev, who sported just the right angles and the perfect complexion and mixture of ethnicities. He wasn’t typical handsome, but he was handsome. 

He was handsome down to his eyes, and how they sparkled with passion at the smallest things. To the way his cheeks fattened with a smile, and to the little lines on his lips from not paying attention to them. He was handsome to the depths of his being, the very fire that fueled him and in the way, he poured out his heart and kindness, how there was no trace of negativity that could ever be traced. He was handsome in a way that seeped through his skin and into Kenma’s, almost like alcohol into his bloodstream, the way he carried himself through life with such pure happiness, and it was a handsomeness that could be felt before you even saw him. Fucking perfect.

“Did I scare you?” He hummed gently, his voice carrying a gentle yet playful tone that had him sounding all too proud of the stunt he pulled, dually making him look so much more kissable than he looked right at that moment. 

Was that shirley temple really virgin? 

“Yeah,” Kenma breathed, finding a nice hold on Shoyo’s shoulders and holding there, feeling his hands tread over tight muscle. Sculpted like the motherfucking God Apollo, holding 130-pound Kenma like he was nothing, doing it flawlessly with a smile and no hint of strain anywhere on his face. He was gorgeous in the sun and in the moonlight and even in places Kenma couldn’t see him. 

Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _

His eyes were locked with Shoyo’s in this position, and it was like staring into the sun, but he’d gladly let it melt him. Here, in his arms, in the ocean so late at night, he’d let the sun, right under him, burn him to a crisp. 

His face was so close. He was hyper-aware of this as he felt his own body inching down, and there was no sign of Shoyo’s resistance. The silence was so heavy, and he was so close, just a little-

One of their phones began blaring from the beach. 

They both jolted away, and he felt the deja vu again. It was like he was the main character of a shitty too long romance movie. Each time things seemed to be getting closer,  _ something  _ just had to happen. 

Shoyo put him down and bounced out of the water and sprinted onto the sand for the phone, as Kenma followed behind a bit more sluggishly, both the obvious annoyance of walking out of water and his shaking legs slowing him down. Why were his legs shaking?

He made it onto the beach and could catch a conversation now. It had been Hinata’s phone, and his ear was pressed right up to it and he was laughing at whoever was on the other end. 

“You’re so nice! You actually worried about me! You do have a heart!” 

Ah, another stoic person he must be friends with. He’d learned that you don’t need a heart to love Hinata Shoyo, he was convinced that you could grow one just by being in his presence. 

Kenma half-heartedly listened to the conversation, shuffling over on the sand and reaching down to grab his clothes. He could take off his shirt and use it to wipe the sand off but… he glanced over to Shoyo, still standing in his shirtless glory and sporting perfect abs, and decided he was okay with having sandy feet for now. 

He took his phone out and answered the text he got from Kuroo, “wtf are u” was what he asked, so Kenma told him, naturally, in his ass. 

He got a few more from his classmates, one from his mum, nothing too crítical that he either sent a dry response to or ignored it. But he did get a text that made his heart stop. 

Nerd

>What were you doing at a bar tonight? 

> Why aren’t you home?

11:47 pm

He switched off his phone and decided those messages didn’t exist.

  
  


Shoyo got off the phone after laughing some more and apologized to him for taking so long. 

“It’s fine,” Kenma waved it off. He’d shoved on the hoodie since he’d felt his body temperature drop a couple of degrees after what Akaashi had messaged him. He told himself they didn’t exist, but they did, and he didn’t want them to. He hadn’t seemed to have told Kuroo though, so he had to attempt to look at the bright side. “What was it anyway?” 

“It was Kageyama! He was mad we didn’t pay, and also he was mad cause Yamaguchi asked him what happened and he got worried,” Hinata jumped into his shorts and began buttoning up his shirt as he talked. He didn’t seem to give much of a shit about the sand on the bottoms of his feet as he slid his socks on and jumped into his shoes. Kenma did cringe, only slightly, but admired the courage. 

“That’s nice of him. Kuroo texted me but he always does. Like he forgets I’m twenty,” Kenma takes a step back as Shoyo jumps back to a stand. They hadn’t been there long, but it felt fulfilling. It was already midnight, past it actually. He somehow felt so alive. 

“Aw!” Hinata smiled and pocketed his phone. He seemed to give up on buttoning his shirt all the way, leaving most of his chest slightly exposed, but it was nothing Kenma would ever complain about. He was so effortlessly fucking  _ handsome.  _ “Let’s head back, okay? I’m sure you’re tired.” 

He wanted to spend the entire fucking night with him. 

“Yeah,” Kenma offered him a small quirk of the lips. Hinata seemed to perk up at that and offered his arm again. And like the beginning of the night, Kenma took it gladly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hey hi. this is super fucking short but I wanted to say a couple things.
> 
> 1- Sorry I'm taking forever, I'm fucking swamped with writing for other shit, like 3 6 paragraph essays a week and it's taking the shit out of me.
> 
> 2- I'mma be editing previous chapters, so if you see this say it's updated but it only has 13 chapters, that's why.
> 
> 3- http://chng.it/sytKy9c4yc This a petition that calls for mainstream media to talk about the rising amount of hate crimes being committed against Asian-Americans due to COVID. It would really be awesome for y'all to take a second and sign. Thank you.

Two weeks had passed since that night on the beach, and it lived on in Kenma’s brain like a really good song stuck on loop. He thought of it as he showered and walked, as he studied and took tests, as he spoke to people and slept. He thought about it so frequently he began to wonder if it was a dream, but the sand he was still swiping out of his sheets told him otherwise. 

Akaashi never brought up the texts, and while Kenma was glad he wouldn’t have to explain himself, he was still anxious about it. Why  _ wouldn’t  _ he say anything? He certainly was still thinking about it. 

The morning after, and he was standing sleepily in the middle of their kitchen, he caught Akaashi’s questioning eye. He’d quickly turned away and mumbled something about the weather, and had seemed to be avoiding too many topics like that with Kenma since. It annoyed him, but he couldn’t bring himself to be too bent out of shape with it. 

His school was going well. It was almost like Shoyo boosted his motivation, and he found himself working harder and completing things earlier, with the smallest bit more effort. The biggest change, however, was to do with his YouTube. 

It was just a side hobby. He’d post when he had a good idea, whenever the video was ready and didn’t let himself fear and dwell about it. But he’d found a little more joy in actually recording, so he picked up the pace, and he tried out streaming a couple of times.

He knew that his activity would probably boost his subscription rate but…  _ fuck.  _

Kenma sat in front of his computer, hands shaking as he stared at the red button displaying a count of his subscribers. The last time he’d really taken a second to check was two weeks ago. It had been at 12k. But now, the small grey numbers had rearranged into 233k, and his throat was dry. 

_ What the fuck? _

He refreshed the page to see if he was wrong, and he checked twice more to see if this  _ really  _ was his account. And nothing changed, Kodzuken on YouTube suddenly had climbed to over 100 thousand subscribers. His last video had almost a million views, and the rest of his videos had climbed from 100-1000 views to around 70 thousand each. 

“Earth to Kenma?” 

The blood rushing in his ears momentarily stopped its roar to welcome Akaashi’s voice, coming up behind him, but Kenma couldn’t make himself move. He was rooted to his position on his chair, legs folded up weirdly under him and his hand glued to his mouse. 

He didn’t know if he wanted to scream- well he certainly wanted to scream- but he didn’t know if it was from anxiousness, fear, excitement, or confusion. Was there a way to combine it all? 

“Kenma! Are you listening to-“ Akaashi’s hand was on his shoulder, and he still didn’t move, but he heard Akaashi’s words stop abruptly. He saw. He wasn’t supposed to. But. But.

“Holy fuck.” 

_ Holy fuck. _

“Kenma. This is... are you breathing?” 

Right. Oxygen. 

One shaky intake of breath later, and he was able to look down at his keyboard but  _ what the fuck?  _ was still the only coherent thought in his brain. 

“Y-Yeah,” He pushed out, deciding not to let his eyes wander back to his screen as he forced his head behind him to Akaashi, looking just as bewildered as Kenma. 

“Mhm,” Akaashi leaned over Kenma and put his hand on the mouse, scrolling over the channel before Kenma could stop him. “Is this really you?” 

“It’s me,” Kenma slid his hand away from the mouse, letting Akaashi have full control now. He knew now, and it’s not like it mattered too much. Akaashi knew he was a fucking nerd, and he knew he randomly made little recordings of gameplay, so it wasn’t the biggest deal. It was still goddamn terrifying.

“It’s mostly in English,” Akaashi observed, moving the mouse over the earliest video of the summer, just after he’d begun using English to make the videos, “What did you even do?” 

“Make videos?” Kenma slid back on his chair, cringing as Akaashi clicked on it, and Kenma’s voice came through, speaking in accented English shakily since he didn’t use it too much to speak, and explaining monotonously the object of the game he was about to begin. He’d read comments commenting about how his accent was cute or laughing at his fucked up pronunciation of  _ because  _ or cringing at how he said  _ sex  _ instead of  _ gender  _ because it was also hard for him to pronounce. Akaashi didn’t seem bothered by it, obviously, since he also didn’t speak English very much, but did smile at a few of the comments he scrolled through, hovering over a few of them. 

“These people seem to really like you. They say your accent is-“ 

“I know,” Kenma finally regained his will to push Akaashi’s hand up and away from the mouse, and he closed out of the video. He couldn’t stand hearing himself speak. 

“Maybe it was your accent,” Akaashi bent down to the screen and kept his eyes fixed on it as Kenma scrolled through another comment section, the one on the newest video, “They want to see your face.”

“Too bad,” Kenma scoffed, “I don’t want people seeing me and recognizing me. I saw this one YouTuber who got recognized on a street and got a swarm of paparazzi, and he wasn’t even that big.” 

“Yeah, sure, but you speak in English. Your audience… there’s statistics right?” 

Kenma reluctantly pulled up the statistics, and was faced with a triumphant, “See?” From Akaashi. The ravenette pressed his finger directly to the top statistic that tracked his audience’s location, “67% are from the United States. And then England. Australia. I don’t even see Japan.”

“That’s insane,” Kenma mumbled to himself. 

“It’s wild. It’s great- which  _ means,  _ you can get as big as you want and still be the most insignificant person in Japan if you keep the fact you live here under the radar. I saw all those videos with Japanese titles were privated,” Akaashi was staring straight at him now, and his face was once again contorted into an ugly(not ugly, because Akaashi was incapable of that, but a very Kuroo-like) smirk. The kind of smirk that said he knew exactly what he wanted to get you to do and no matter what, it was going to happen. He really wanted to kick Akaashi out before he morphed into a second rooster cunt.

“There’s no point to it,” Kenma scrolled briefly down his statistics and saw a pie (pi?) chart showing his subscribers by gender. It was mostly females. “It’s not like I’m the best looking guy ever.” 

“It’ll bring in more followers. So what if you're not handsome? Those face reveal kind of videos make people go nuts, even if the guy is ugly as a stump,” Akaashi smirked, “And they’ll probably have even more fun making fun of how girly you look sometimes.” 

“I don’t care about followers,” Kenma sighed, “You know I don’t like-“ 

“What about money?”

Kenma shut his mouth abruptly.  _ Money.  _ He’d already been making a little, just a few extra bucks, but there  _ were  _ people who made an entire living off YouTube, and it certainly wasn’t a modest living. Pewdiepie had 40 something million subscribers and he earned 15 million dollars that year, and while he didn’t see himself making it to that level, maybe he could get closer. Maybe he could make a living. With sponsorships and everything- That…

Kenma looked up to Akaashi, and the ravenette was smirking at him again. Kenma wanted to punch him. But  _ fuck _ , now he had to get a camera. 


End file.
